grief

Grief is a funny (not ha-ha - peculiar) emotion.

You expect, when thinking about being faced with grief, that it's just this overwhelming, cascading, series of waves of sadness.

It isn't.

The stages of grief are simply so accurate - guilt, sadness, anger. I've watched people I love suffer through grief before and, to a person, they have experienced these in some order. The one that seems to be easily omitted mostly, at least by men, is that massive amount of sobbing sadness. It seems to be replaced by extra anger.

I watched someone in the early throes of grief yesterday - someone near and dear to me. I watched him melt in front of me, throwing so much anger my way that I couldn't even figure out how to function. I realized - unfortunately only after the fact - that the anger wasn't exactly at me. It was the hurt from that loss (which I didn't know had happened unfortunately until it was too late) coming out and being directed at me. I'm safe, right? I'm not the person who died. I'm not the people who could necessarily hear that anger without being judgmental. I was going to understand and, what's worse, I was going to take that anger over and over again and own it - own that it was something I did, someone I was or wasn't.

And so I did.

And now I hurt.

Because I've been through awful losses before, and supported loved ones through such losses, I know this anger is normal. It's described brilliantly in this page from Psych Central:

2. Anger

As the masking effects of denial and isolation begin to wear, reality and its pain re-emerge. We are not ready. The intense emotion is deflected from our vulnerable core, redirected and expressed instead as anger. The anger may be aimed at inanimate objects, complete strangers, friends or family. Anger may be directed at our dying or deceased loved one. Rationally, we know the person is not to be blamed. Emotionally, however, we may resent the person for causing us pain or for leaving us. We feel guilty for being angry, and this makes us more angry.

http://psychcentral.com/lib/the-5-stages-of-loss-and-grief/000617

I GET IT.  I REALLY DO.

I'm not sure that means that I can take being kicked like a dog down and then being screamed at - repeatedly - when I cried over being kicked so hard.  But that's exactly what happens.

The kicker, of course, is that now I am experiencing regret, and I'm sure this friend is not.  I guess that's logical, because I'm not the one immersed in grief.  Im supposed to be the strong one, the one who is a friend, who just listens and supports and doesn't think of my own feelings.  I'd like to think I can normally do that pretty well.

I absolutely failed  yesterday, and I'm having a hard time forgiving myself for that - mostly because I don't think my friend will, not for a long time, maybe not ever.

How do I help someone forgive me when they are so so angry at me?  I don't know and it's killing me.

Leaves aren't brown yet

I'm back. For how long is anyone's guess - but I'm back. I tend to come here in times of emotional struggles and tumult, and I've hit a patch of serious mess, for lack of a better term.

I've been listening to Pandora today - my new job, while challenging and starting to get busy, is a bit isolating / lonely. I guess this is what happens when you wish for an office and get one, but only because you leave for a new company...

...and so I titled this post as is because "California Dreamin'" was on at the start of this post. Yes, I am harkening back to my childhood with my quasi-hippie parents and listening to a station inspired by the song "Kathy's Song" by Paul Simon...or is it Simon and Garfunkel? One of the two.

So here I sit, an undercurrent of serious sadness just below the surface of my heart. It's so close that any one little thing right now is bringing me to tears, and since the events that lead to this feeling just transpired last Friday, perhaps that's expected.

I am hurting. Hurting. And wondering what's next.

terms

God, I love this song - and so appropriate for me right now. Darn work - more later! "The Path Of Thorns" I knew you wanted to tell me In your voice there was something wrong But if you would turn your face away from me You cannot tell me you're so strong Just let me ask of you one small thing As we have shared so many tears With fervor our dreams we planned a whole life long Now are scattered on the wind... [CHORUS] In the terms of endearment In the terms of the life that you love In the terms of the years that pass you by In the terms of the reasons why Through the years I've grown to love you Though your commitment to most would offend But I stuck by you holding on with my foolish pride Waiting for you to give in... You never really tried or so it seems I've had more than myself to blame I've had enough of trying everything And this time it is the end... [CHORUS] There's no more coming back this way The path is overgrown and strewn with thorns They've torn the life-blood from your naked eyes Cast aside to be forlorn... [CHORUS] Funny, how it seems that all I've tried to do Seemed to make no difference to you at all...

the ever ellusive brown boot

I fully admit that this problem is not really a problem. It first world bullshit. But its been a long week. I need the levity. My preference is to not think about the 4536899 projects I have at work, most of which I'm neglecting. Id like to pretend I didn't hear senior management tell us on Weds that they aren't closing our building "or any others any time soon ", or that our health insurance rates are going up 18% next yr, or er probably aren't getting merit increases again - 2nd straight yr for most people - 3rd or 4th for me depending on whether or not $800 counts as a raise. My house is a mess, my kid has 10 yes 10 soccer games next weekend, I owe his social worker and my gun a phone call...and instead - I left work at 520 and went shoe shopping. I have brown boots. Eh. They are 5 yrs old and the heel is too short. And they aren't platforms. I have s new cute sweater dress screaming tot brown boots. Shoe stores abound on my way home from work. I stopped at Marshall's first. I wads immediately reminded of the problem with brown shoes. What brown!?! Caramel? Camel? Chocolate? Shit now I'm hungry. I dint want brown that looks black and I don't want tan. Brown. So difficult. Marshall's had lots of brown riding type boots. And a kick asa pair of designer black boots from last season marked down from $250 to $117. But I do not need black boots! DSW was overwhelming. Found 1 pair of nice reddish Carmel platform boots but they were $150. Uh no...remember no raise in 4 yrs.... Famous Footwear was pointless and by the time I got to Kohl's I was tired hungry and disheartened. They had shit for boots. And why is that place always like a cyclone hit?!? Are all kohls like that?!? I came home and cried my middle class tale of woe to my friend L. I have more seious topics I discuss with her typically so - again - adiversion. As I chatted with her, Amazon called me. And there they were. 1 left. $100 off. Carlos Santana. Platforms. Reviews say they are not loose on thin calves. And oh yes. Mission accomplished.

im too sexy...the pre - pubescent version

G is the ripe old age of 10 now. 10 was a funny age when I was a kid - you know, in the olden days. But I think it's even stranger now. At least half the girls in G 's class are wearing bras. Now while I was 28 before I needed s bra, I realize that's not nor has it ever been the norm. LOL. But I also don't think many girls were rocking bras when I was in 5th grade. I shudder at the thought of whet age precocious puberty appears now! But I digress... While the girls are growing...the boys are short. And they view girls as classmates but generally gross. Usually. G told me right at the start of the school year that a few boys were starting to think girls were cute. When I asked him if he was one of them, he did the blushing eye blink heroes when hes trying to lie. He mentioned a very tall girl - M - as a girl he thought was "nice " but then dropped it. I wasn't going to force the issue. Then last weekend he wad hanging out with our neighbor's younger daughter C. C and G, along with the other neighborhood girls, have been friends since they were babies. C's older sister is 12 and doesn't hang with G and C as much now so C and G have gotten closer. G came bounding in the house for a check-in without C and said to me "Mom I hope C wears the shirt she has on today again soon...she looks sexy." What?!?!? Wait. WHAT?!? I asked him what sect meant to him (kid is verbally gifted - I know damnable well he knows what it means) and he stammered and said "well really really cute! Not gross sexy!" I reminded him that sexy was never ever a good way to describe a 10 yr old and then sent him on his way, noting that the days of G and C playing in one of their rooms alone for hours is nearly over. Shit. I'm so not ready for this.

Curse you potato chips!

I have a problem. I love potato chips. I particularly love potato chips when my monthly visitor bangs on my door, which, now that I'm "old", seems to be all.the.time. LOL! I have passed my love of those salty crunchy nuggets of gold down to my son as well. I am so lucky that, generally speaking, G is a great eater. He'll eat fruits and veggies over junk food most of the time, and is essentially a pescatarian. But chips are his downfall and he has skimped on too many dinners due to his diving into a bag of chips before I got home from work. Damn kid. ARGH - work got in the way...I had such profound things to say...more later perhaps.

How the hell do I have a 5th grader?!?!?

My kid started 5th grade last month. 5th grade. Intermediate school in our town. Changing classes?!?!? He informed me that he thinks 2 girls in his class are SUPER cute - "like sexy-cute Mom" (yes, we had a chat about how 10 year old girls are, in fact, NOT sexy - don't worry). He's definitely firmly entrenched in his 'tweenness. It's funny, I remember my mom telling me OVER and OVER when I was a child and then when G was a baby that parenthood makes time fly, and that I will wake up one day and he'll be moving out. It might be cliche but damn if it isn't true. At least after the first year. Funny - my nephew just turned 1 - the week G went back to school - and I think his first year dragged even for me - and I'm not his mother! G's 9th year, which encompassed the same general timeframe as E's first, seemed faster. And it was the same amount of time. How is that possible? I need to get back to blogging more. I'm in here now for 3 reasons. 1. I need to consolidate 2 spreadsheets into one for work and I'd rather rip my eyes out. 2. I watched Julie and Julia, or whatever it's called, the other day and was inspired by her bloggy-ness! 3. I was just talking to some of my online mom friends about blogs - particularly blogs by only child moms. Hey that's me, and I have a blog AND I've written about G being an only. So...let's see if I can make this happen more successfully again now. I need to blog for my sanity and my mental health and now that I'm parenting a 'tween only - I think that might be even more the case! Oh and by the way - you will be brought to your knees in confusion the first time your kid uses the word sexy. TRUST me. HOLY CRAP!