For the last few days I've felt pretty blah. And it's been a mysterious malaise. Nothing's going on in my life that I can actively blame. Everything's really pretty great. Hollis has jacked up the charm about a thousand fold. Anthony and I are continuing to get along really well and have lots of laughs. Gabby's doing much better, my Mom's happy, Terry's happy, all my friends are happy, expecting babies, making good changes, pursuing hobbies, lives, careers, themselves.
The world is motherfucking peachy right now.
So what gives? Why am I such a pooper? I think I can answer that. I think it's grief.
Grief is such a mysterious emotion. It's non-linear, unpredictable, and a shape-shifter.
I won't go into it too much, but in July of 2006, almost 3 years ago, my dad died (and I can't help but add) a painful, horrible death from cancer. As some of you already know, I was estranged from him. So was my sister. After years of a painful, unhealthy relationship I severed ties with him in 2003, found out he committed unforgivable acts on one I love dearly shortly thereafter, and assumed I would never see him again from that point on.
I feel compelled to go through the time line of the end with him, but I'm going to resist. Suffice it to say, I reestablished contact with him while he was in the hospital in February of 2006 until he went into hospice in June when my mom, Anthony, my sister and I flew to Phoenix on the day we found out he was there. I can sum up the entire experience, from the first time I spoke to him to the night I got the call that he'd died, as horrific.
Five incredibly difficult months later I found out I was pregnant and life has moved on ever since (and as well it should have) with my focus and attention being on life, those I love and trust, and Hollis.
When Levi died in November I felt a whole different kind of grief and sadness. For him, it was so pure and innocent. It was an entirely different kind of loss I felt for him than for my father and that realization brought on a whole mix of shit about my dad I could never have anticipated. And now my grief for Levi is somehow twisted up with the mess I feel about my dad.
For the last few days, for example, I keep running across things about Levi: old vet receipts, seeing his dog bowls, finding a dog tag, his name coming up in conversation, a picture of him in my mother-in-law's homemade 2009 calender. I'm able to feel sadness and let the tears fall for Levi for a little while, but when I start to think about his loss I immediately think of my dad. I never cry about losing him. I think I cried a river about that while he was alive - no need for that now.
I think that's what's been under my skin lately that makes me feel constantly irritated at the world, my life, the kitchen, the dirty floors, the goddamnedneverendinglaundry, the dishes and the dishes and the dishes. My grief and confusion are more safely expressed through [wimpy] displays of anger... because it's a lot easier to be pissed than it is to be crushed.
Ok, so now what? Fuck if I know.