Before the death of Don Shepherd, my mind and brain quite easily handled multiple tasks at once. My life in NYC was frantic, chaotic, colorful, probably way too busy, and with high stress levels. It was also the life of a struggling artist. I was younger then, and I think because mostly the multiple jobs I often worked were all theatre/acting/comedy/writing related, and because my surroundings were other artist friends who kept me going and helped me keep the dream alive, I somehow didnt notice that I had a zillion things going on at once at all times. Or maybe it just worked for me at that time.
On a typical day while married to Don Shepherd and while usually working more than one job; Id get up around 6 a.m. and Don would just be getting home from his overnight EMS shift. (he worked varied hours in our time together, but the last year or so of his life, he worked the overnight shift so we shared the car or sometimes I would drive him to work and then take the car). We would hug and kiss good morning/good night, and then Id let him get some sleep while I got ready for work. I’d drive the 90 minutes or so (traffic) from NJ to Long Island out to Adelphi University, and teach my 4 courses in a row. Dramatics, Stand Up Comedy, Beginning Acting, and then some one-on-one coaching sessions for Writing Comedy. After that, if I was directing a production, which was often, my teaching day would get done around 3pm, Id grab some food somewhere on campus, then head to 5pm rehearsal for the show I was directing. Rehearsals were normally 5 -9pm and usually 5 nights per week, sometimes involving weekends. Sometimes on Don’s day off he would take the train out to the campus and help out with tech stuff on my shows. He would help carrying things, or help strike the set after a show. On days when we were both home at the same time, I would cook and make us dinner, but there were a lot of “fend for yourself” type nights, which worked well for our on-the-go lifestyle.
Id get home from rehearsal around 10 pm at night, and then Id be wired from my day and filled with creative juices. Id start writing something for the show or coming up with a sketch idea for the cast to try the next day (our shows were cabarets and were self-written by the cast and director, normally.) Id end up going to bed around midnight or later, then up again around 6 am for the next long day. On days when I wasnt directing a show, I also ran a part-time wedding planner business. Don helped tremendously with that too. He would do all the heavy lifting (literally), when I would be packing our car with tables and other random things for the bride and groom, and he would act as my assistant whenever his schedule allowed. I also had a part-time job doing demos in stores like Whole Foods or Trader Joe’s, where we would give samples of products/healthy foods to customers, and tell them about the new item. In between all of that, I was always attending my other artist friends shows, or helping out with them, or acting in them. I was doing comedy sets, making comedy you tube videos, and oh yeah – somewhere in there we managed a social life, trips home to visit my parents in Massachusetts, and more. Yes, there were days that we sat lounging around the apartment and watching movies or just hanging out together – of course – but my life was chaotic and not at all organized; although to me it felt like organized chaos. It worked for me. Through all the chaos, I could hold 27 thoughts in my head at once, and usually not miss a beat. I payed the bills on time, feeding ourselves somehow worked itself out, and we did the groceries when time allowed (some weeks it would be on a random Tues evening, other weeks it would be a Sunday after maybe going out for breakfast or lunch together.)
As a child and teenager and young woman, I never had dreams of getting married and having kids. I had dreams of moving to NYC and becoming an actor/performer. I wanted to be on “Saturday Night Live.” When I met Don, we developed an accidental friendship which turned into an accidental relationship and love. Neither of us were looking for it or expecting it, but when it happened, it worked because we were both two extremely independent people coming together to share our very unique lives. Our messy and chaotic day to day somehow worked for us. He entered into my NYC world of chaos, and he made it significantly better.
Then he died, and doing life without him was beyond hard. Doing THAT life without him seemed like an impossible task, and one that I attempted for almost 5 years after his death, but it just didnt work. I grew tired of the struggle, tired of never having money, tired of not having a partner to help. We had a rhythm, and the music didnt work as a solo. I left it all behind and I dont regret doing so. That life worked for me then, and this one works for me now. But sometimes, I think I miss the organized chaos. I think I function better in it. I dont do well with rigid and rules and strict timelines and lists. When I make a list, I either lose my list, start writing it and then dont complete it, or write more than one by accident because Ill think of things that need to be added later on and then I cant locate the original list so it ends up being 5 one item list things on random post-it notes or notebook paper. If I make a “To Do” list, it ends up stressing me out because I usually dont complete it, and then I cross out what I did complete and then never quite get around to finishing all the things that need to be done. If I think of life as days of endless lists filled with chores, that thought is depressing to me and so I stop.
My current “post-loss, widow / trauma” brain functions very differently than that carefree, younger, know nothing about the shock of sudden death and its affects on life brain did. Sometimes I miss that version of me, that version of my brain, that version of flying by night and writing up a comedy script at 2am in the morning because its due the next day for rehearsal and I left it for the last minute. I cant do life that way today, because I need to get minimum 6 hours sleep to be up at 5am for my job, which is NOT a job in the creative arts. Back then, writing at 2am WAS my job, and even though financially I was always struggling, I was living my passions. I think my brain works better when I am doing things I really care about and things that personally mean something to me. Things I am passionate about. I keep hoping that I can find a way to keep adding more of those things back into my current life, instead of less. Maybe my brain function can improve if I can use more of it in the creative arts way that it was meant to be used. One of my saddest thoughts is my creativity fading away into the background of life, until it finally disappears entirely. The death of my husband was hell on earth. Im not sure I could take having to live with the death of my lifes passions.
Heres the thing. I love the life I have built and am building. I dont love this new, post-loss brain. Its been 10 years now, and it doesnt seem to be going anywhere. I think this is just the brain Im stuck with now. This brain has trouble holding one thought, never mind twenty seven at once. This brain has issues remembering things, even minutes after being told said things. This brain has issues with focusing.
This brain needs Google calendar in order to remember whats going on from hour to hour. This brain is fragile, and filled with trauma and laced with grief and needs to be handled with great care. I miss my pre-loss brain, but shes gone, and I need to find a way to make this one work in the life I have today.
I will figure it out. Or I wont.
Or maybe Ill just land somewhere in the middle of chaos and focus.