Semi Trucks and Holidays

Grief is weird y'all. You think you know about grief, we've all heard about the five stages. But what they don't really tell you, is that the five stages don't come in order. Some times, it's only one stage. Denial is the most uncomplicated to be caught up in, it's easiest to be able to just focus on something else. Dismissing from the mind what has happened. But after that...it turns in to a mess. Sometimes you feel anger and depression at the same time...or sometimes you feel acceptance and depression at the same time. Each day is different, like when you scratch off a lottery ticket, you never really know what you're going to get. Sometimes you're lucky enough to experience all five at once! As though it wasn't already complex enough!

To make matters worse, sometimes it just "doesn't sink in" immediately...or even after a few months. Part of that is denial, but I feel like part of it is also the brain protecting itself. Because there is no way that anyone could survive the death of a loved one if it felt real instantaneously. The cruelest thing about this is, sometimes I actually do forget.

I know, how does one forget their father passed away?

Because we didn't live in the same area, and didn't see each other frequently; so there isn't something obviously missing from my daily life. His belongings were not left in my house for me to pack up, he didn't have a favorite chair in my living room. I feel like that would have actually made it easier, to feel that daily and to feel that something is missing.

He often went on hunting or fishing trips for a week or two at a time where cell phone service was non existent; so not talking to him on the phone for a few weeks was normal. There have been many times where a question has come up and I've thought, "I'll call my dad, he'll know!".

It's like my brain is trying to stop the semi truck from hitting me, but it's always half a second too late, and by time I've thought "I'll call..." I can already see the high beams coming my way. I have no other option aside from bracing myself against the impact. Though I'm never quite prepared for how hard it hits, the amount of physical pain my brain can register.

It doesn't feel like my heart is breaking, nor does it feel like it has a hole in it. I feel as though I have no heart at all; as though it's never existed, while concurrently the rest of my body hasn't been aware of this and is only now just discovering it. So with each beat that should have happened, I can feel my veins shriveling, no longer pumping blood, and my whole body aches as the blood supply fails to reach my organs. I lay gasping for air on the floor, until my brain is completely cut off from both blood and oxygen, detonating in my skull.

And while the semi-truck has been hitting with less frequency as I properly work through my feelings, in various healthy methods, it still comes sometimes. It never lessens in it's intensity, and I can't imagine that it will; he was my father, how does one's heart not ALWAYS hurt for that? But I imagine it will continue to become more sporadic and pass quicker over time.

I also realize that there are times and events that will bring my grief to the forefront of my mind, like birthdays and holidays. My father's birthday has already passed, he died just over a month before it, so we decided to wait and have his service on his birthday, September 27th. It was an extremely difficult day for many, but I believe we celebrated him in a way that he would have appreciated.

However it's all a fog to me...I really don't remember any of it at all. I was in zombie mode that day, so the grief wasn't able to stick that hard, though it tried a few times (there are pictures to prove it!). Had his birthday been at a different time in the year; it would have been another semi crash waiting to happen.

Typically I am a very private person, I don't naturally express my emotions or thoughts to others well (I know, I know, it's ironic that I sit here writing for complete strangers to read, some of the most intimate thoughts in my head - gratefully writing is how I process). I also very much like to be alone when the semi comes barreling through. In my youngers years I would have said I took solitude to the extreme.

But with 30 years of practice, I know when being alone is what's best for ME. I like to put on a mindless movie, cuddle with my dogs, (they're so intuitive when I'm upset) write, and doodle in my journal. These are the things that help me process. I know this about myself. I have accepted this about myself.

Had my fathers service not been on his birthday, this is probably all that I would have wanted to do on the 27th of September. In fact, it is all that I did on my birthday, on November 1st. I hadn't considered how hard my own birthday was going to be, but it was. My mom called me first, because that's what she does and has for years. Thankfully she's stopped with the 7am wake up calls of "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU..." and calls at least a few hours later. My sister called, as did friends. But I realized just how dang hard it was not to hear his voice.

I enjoyed my day, it was quiet and peaceful. I wasn't moping around, I wasn't depressed, I was savoring the solitude. When my husband got home, we went and got dinner and quietly celebrated at home. It was exactly what I wanted, and exactly what I needed.

My plans were going to be the same for the holidays as well, again, no moping or feeling sorry for myself; but enjoying the calm and remembering dad. I knew this may (most likely) be a semi-truck day because this was my first holiday without him; on top of that it was his personal favorite. I was excited at the thought of spending the day with my sister, relaxing, watching football, eating good food, and just generally being us, learning to enjoy the day together as the hubs was going to his family's for the afternoon.

Unfortunately that is not the way it happened. Starting with insomnia, causing me to be up at 3:30am and ending with my sister in the hospital. The semi-truck was back, and it had brought friends. The entire day was filled with nothing but anxiety for me, no one understanding where I was coming from; I had no heart the entire day. My body feeling like it as slowly dying from lack of blood, but yet I was expected to show up, slap a smile on my face, and play pretend.

Literally the EXACT reason that I KNEW it was best for me to stay at home.

But what I wanted, no what I NEEDED didn't seem to matter.

I felt misunderstood, and as though it was unacceptable to be where I was emotionally. As though I should be 'over it' by now, as if experiencing my truth was wrong.

I was so emotionally exhausted from the anxiety all day long, and had maxed out on the amount of Ativan I could take; my wonderful and amazing husband allowed me to go home and sleep while he took my sister to the hospital. Which also gave me anxiety as I knew that I should have been there with her, but sometimes you just have to know your limit. Thankfully she, and my husband understood.

With all that being said, there was an important lesson in that day, one I will never forget.

I have been me for 30 years, no one knows me better than myself. When I know that I NEED something I will not be swayed or manipulated in to doing something that pleases others. I am so grateful for the wonderful people, including my husband, who understand and support me in this decision. I am thankful for the opportunity to identify a place of boundaries and the people who choose to respect them.