Earlier this week, I was sad. Just sad. Sad is different from depressed. Unfortunately, it’s such a huge dose of sad that now it’s feeding depression, which is feeding sad, and let’s go spinning down down down. *sighs*
You see, there were two deaths last week in the extended not-blood family. The first was my stepfather’s best friend, who we called Uncle T. He was family to a high degree, and we all loved him. Even if I have chosen to cut my parents out of my life, it doesn’t change my feelings for Uncle T. If I’d been married in the States, he would’ve been the one doing the ceremony. But as I’d not seen him this side of 2000, it was sad, but not crushingly so. A fleeting whiff of ‘oh’, quickly masked by my ability to bring forth fond memories of him into my head. To me, someone isn’t truly dead if I can remember them, and there certainly enough memories for me to pick from that he will always be alive there.
The second death hit me a lot harder for some reason, despite the fact it was someone I had met only once. She was the wife of a dear old friend, and while Uncle T’s death was untimely, hers was even more unfairly so — she had a seizure and suffocated. I can go on Facebook and see comments she made the day before she died on mutual friend’s walls and it’s just like… ow. You were alive. So alive. And now you’re not. And I have no memories to associate with her outside of one brief meeting, and I think that’s what makes my grieving worse. Well, and it’s not my grief to grieve either, so I feel sort of selfish for feeling so upset about it. I know, stupid feeling, and it’s not like I’m putting myself out there or here looking to be cossetted. I don’t want people to be sorry for my loss — neither loss is mine exactly.
But even recognising that… shit. It still hurts physically and emotionally, and logic doesn’t want to touch it. I recognise it’ll just be a matter of time passing before I feel better, and at least my humour maintains its acerbic edge here in the house — I managed to get a wicked laugh out of my husband over the weekend that reminded me that I sooo married the best person for me. Plus, he’s good at being around without being in my bubble, which was even more appreciated over the weekend than it usually is. I kept swinging between feeling clingy and wanting people around to not wanting anyone around to not having the energy to care. I’m somewhere between the latter and the former right now — I don’t have any energy to deal with people, but I wish I had company.
Blah. This too shall pass. But you’ll forgive me for wishing I didn’t have to deal with it at all. Hope the rest of you guys out there are having an okay time of it.