725 Days
I have never been a fan of Valentines Day. Even as a kid I just never liked it. Thankfully I met and married a man who feels the same way so I don’t need to fake my way through this week in that sense. I remember getting texts and gifts last year from friends but I am not quite sure I really understood what was happening at the time. Or maybe I did and the daily onslaught of life has just muddied my memory. 2 weeks ago I was getting my hair done and the stylist mentioned it is her favorite holiday. I made fun of her then told her I would bring her chocolates. Then I got home and realized that Valentines Day is now “that” day. The day after my life changed. The day that I started having absolutely horrific dreams and thoughts. The day FF made a decision to do the unthinkable and lives were forever changed.
I have been self absorbed with my own stuff for months now. I absolutely hate that I can’t call MK and tell her what I am going through. I hate that I feel alone on an island because nobody else ( B excluded) really wants to hear all the daily shit that just keeps coming my way and at times feels so unbearable all I can do is cry. I hate that I no longer pick up the phone to text her and then remember I can’t. I hate that I am now used to her not being here. Hate is a strong word but dislike doesn’t quite cut it here.
Life moves forward and in a blink it is now 725 days since I last spoke to her. 725 days of seeing hummingbirds when I need her the most and I can finally smile and say hello to her instead of crying.
I have put in a solid 3 months of working on reprocessing thoughts and feelings about what happened. It has been horrible and exhausting but it has worked. The one thing I keep coming back to that makes my brain hurt is the fact that I almost feel like I am grieving all over again BUT this time around it is sadness over no longer grieving her loss. It is this feeling that is not as intense as the actual grief but a little part of the brain is painfully aware that I am no longer feeling the same and maybe I should feel guilty about that.
I have been working on some childhood trauma the last few weeks. While reprocessing one of the memories I would/could not allow myself to fully commit to allowing myself to have the memory be no longer disturbing. I felt like if I let it go then a part of me would be dying off and all the shit that I suffered at age 6 would change who I am today because after all, today we are all a culmination of the events, be them good or bad, that we have experienced in our lives. Turns out it is ok to move forward and let go. I doesn’t change any of the past and you are still the same person BUT you can be at peace with it. I still feel the same way about what happened. I am still pissed at FF, I still dislike the adults from my childhood who allowed horrible things to happen. Instead of allowing those events to impact my daily life, I am able to think about them and be (almost) indifferent. They are things that happened but my brain and body no longer immediately go into fight or flight. The happier memories start to return and the energy I wasted on those who do not deserve it is now reserved for me and my happiness. That is a good thing, right? Then why spend time feeling guilty about no longer aching for MK’s friendship? Slowly the self impossed guilt is slipping away. Slowly I notice that this week actually doesn’t suck just the act that occured 2 years ago does. I still refuse to celebrate a death day. There is no point. It disregards the amazing life she led and focusses on one horrific event.
So while it may be nearly 725 days of grief, it is softer, gentler and kinder. After all, MK would want it that way. So here’s to stupid Valentines Day :)
