I swear I thought I was over this stage.
The denial stage.
Or at least in control of it.
But I seriously cannot stop thinking that I'm just not spending Christmas with Roger for some other weird reason besides his death.
Maybe he is in a different country.
Maybe he had to work.
Maybe he was sick and could not travel.
Maybe he just did not want to come to the cold weather.
Maybe he just wanted to spend the holiday with his family without me.
Maybe we are fighting.
Part of that super protective part of me is not letting me truly deal with this complete loss.
And I do want to.
I really want to deal with this.
I do not want it to be later when it will be more painful.
I keep yelling at myself, "C'mon, Star, face it!! Let your guard down. This is real."
Maybe because I'm around people I have not seen in a while?
Maybe because I am excited to see new people?
As long as I am being distracted, whether that is good or bad, I keep forgetting the real reason Roger is not with me.
Roger is dead.
And it is distrubing me that I am denying everything, again.
I do not want to forget.
Of couse, the constant reminders of something to do with Roger are there.
Whether its a movie, a CD, a word on a book, a t-shirt, a sound, or just about anything.
I complete amaze myself at my ability to associate anything and everything to Roger.
I seriously kind of hope I crash back to reality soon.
I am worried about myself.
1 comment:
I've always hated the word "denial" to describe this feeling. I was never in denial. I **KNEW** he'd died, that he was dead. There was never any denial that it happened or that my life was inexplicably changed.
"Disbelief" has always seemed--for me--to be a more fitting, appropriate description instead. I couldn't grasp, couldn't wrap my head around that this could happen, that my husband could die when I was 27, that he could be dead before he hit the ground, that he simply wouldn't come home one night and that there was absolutely nothing I could do about it. I didn't want to believe it.
The fits of disbelief, denial, shock, surprise--or whatever you want to call it--will come and go for a long time. It takes having them a hundred, a thousand, a million times, for the reality to continually sink in, little by little, until finally you KNOW exactly what your reality feels like in every atom of your body.
You can still feel excitement, still feel happiness and a surreal sense of pseudo-normalcy, even when in the midst of shattering, early grief. Instead of feeling sad and distraught all the time, I seemed to feel EVERYTHING, all over the board, in those first months. But "normal" people--i.e., people who've never experienced it before--don't know that it's how grief can work. But everything you said sounds perfectly normal to me, from what I've seen, felt, and heard.
And I *still* have times where the disbelief strongly hits me, where I still can't understand how it happened...how it's STILL happening, still a truth and fundamental fact in my life. And it certainly isn't "denial." Maybe "dismay" is an apt word too, in addition to "disbelief"....
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