Written four months after Jeff’s death….
I don’t know if it’s normal to have the vague fuzzy feeling like thinking through a pillow re-emerge four months after a death happens. But it has. I feel as if I’m trying to catch glimpses of things as I spin in circles.
I can see that things are there but the edges blur and smudge together. I’m late for things all the time…okay, even later than I was before. I can’t keep my bloody mind ‘on task’ and forget where/what I was doing or going.
It was getting better. Maybe it was the large whiteboard that I stationed in the living room to help remind me of the obligations that need attending to. Maybe I was beginning to heal a minute amount (this is what I was hoping).
But whatever reprieve I had from the chaos and confusion of a muddled mind has ended. Fuck. It makes me crabby. I always think I am forgetting something (which I am) and I can’t rest or let my mind cease the constant flurry of thought. It’s a numb, yet intense feeling. Like walking barefoot through really deep, COLD mud. Slow but sharp.
My only reasoning for this is that grief is not a steady road upward. There are twists, setbacks and road-blocks. I’ve hit a big-ass speed bump.