Swimming in It

Warning: Morose content follows. Go read about something else if you want cheeriness. Last night was an inexplicably weird night. My week was normal – stressful at work but that’s nothing new. I spent it with a good friend doing something fun so there was no reason (except maybe the content of the movie we watched – Juno) to cause me to have a sudden realization and to spend the 25-minute drive home sobbing.  My dad died 7 years ago on January 4th. I was 26. The death of the one man that loved me unconditionally and would never betray me left a huge hole inside. I was devastated at the time. But I had never really had to grieve before so I didn’t know what to do or how to do it.  It’s become apparent to me over the last several months that I did the best I could at the time, but never really went through the Kubler-Ross stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance).  I was only 26 – so young. My memory of dad now is fragmented and in pieces. I can remember events and his face and things we did as a family but as a person all I get are fragments which is heartbreaking. A person will go through similar grief stages when any loss occurs – whether it’s the death of a parent, spouse, pet, or losses of a job or a relationship. Processing and willingly moving through these stages is critical. And I’m the master of avoidance. So once January 4th, 2001 happened, a hole was created and it’s been slowly getting bigger each time I lose something.  When I lose people – not things. I lost the first man I loved in a romantic capacity, the relationship and the life we had together towards the end of 2001. When mom had a massive stoke in 2005, I lost what sometimes feels like a million pieces of her, and I lost the dynamic of the mother-daughter relationship – those tables were abruptly turned on me.  So in many ways I don’t have a parental figure. Then in 2007 I lost the second man I loved, the relationship, a dog I love very much, and the life we had. All these losses have made me lose faith in feeling secure, in thinking I won’t be left alone in this world by the people I’m closest to. I’ve never needed a boyfriend or relationship – but everyone needs family whether it’s by blood or something else.  And family can be partners, sisters, mothers, fathers, friends.  It’s made me lose faith in people and their ability to deal with life when it gets messy. Because it does.  Guess what folks – it’s inevitable. Life’s messy, people die, relationships end. And life goes on like it or not.  I was able to assign a tangible picture to all this last night - I have this huge hole that will never really get filled again. At least not with what was there before.  And I know because of all these things I won’t be the same person I was last year, or 5 years ago.  That’s a given - in many ways I’ve grown for the better. But I was so upset last night because I am scared I will always feel this empty.  New things have and will come into my life that do and will make me feel fulfilled – friends, dogs, cats, family, maybe even romantic relationships. The tragedy is the current hole is not fill- able by new things.  I now understand what people who had lost a parent said to me when dad died. The hole left behind never gets filled – you never stop missing the person – it just gets more regular, familiar.  You just get used to it.