how did i get here?

my husband, my beautiful Dragon, died suddenly at 12:03 AM on 9 February 2009. there was a cold, lovely full moon and 3 feet of snow on the ground. i "slept" for the following 10 months and "woke" to the physical and emotional pain and torments of deep grief. i "woke" to find i had moved the day of his funeral and that i am lost. i am looking for me while i figure out the abstract, unanswerable questions that follow behind any death. my art has evolved. his death changed that as well because i am forever changed and will forever bear the mark of losing the only man i can ever love.
there is alive and there is dead and there is a place in between. i am here wholly in my heart for my children, but i feel empty inside at this time. i miss him. i have not gotten very far in my grief journey. i make no apologies for this.
this is my place, my blog, where i write to tell the universe that i am still here.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

stress, fear, grief

the full moon is returning. i get anxious for it. what if there is cloud cover? what if the new camera stops working? what if whatever is growling out there in the darkness comes out of the stand of trees and gets me? {another story. *sigh*}

i have a quilt in the frame to get finished in time for a young man to receive it before Christmas. what if my hand keeps cramping? what if the double quilting takes me longer? what if i get it to the post office too late? what if the mail is slow?

Build-A-Bear has not called. what if they do not want me? what if i do not ever get the chance to wear the blue blouse and build a bear for someone?

i have a job interview at Sears on Tuesday morning. what if they do not want me?

i have filled out a job application for Michael's Craft Store. what if they do not want me?

i am a f*cking artist! i can type between 78 and 88 wpm. i am detail oriented, meticulous with order, filing, notes, appointments. i have a crazy, off-the-charts memory. though no one who has met me in the widow world would believe me, in the business world i am on top of all my responsibilities. i will get the quilt done and to the post office in time if i have to work 24/7. i am intelligent, resourceful, on task, look for more work to stay busy and earn my keep. i have experience in a number of capacities. i can balance a spreadsheet. i can clean well enough for surgery. i can strategize for multiple problems. i am intuitive to people's moods and feelings. i would never say anything to hurt anyone. i think very hard before i speak. i would be good at customer service.

i have so many skills. why can i not get a job in the real world? my art is my life and soul but i need a steady stream of income. i need it yesterday. i was awesome at the interview at Build-A-Bear. the only thing was that i was not 18 - 21 like the other women were. i had more on the ball and answered first. those girls answered all their questions with the lame-assed, "well, like she said" and pointed to me! ah, nevermind. maybe Sears or Michael's will hire me, but what if they don't.

what if? what if? i am killing myself on the "what ifs."

i want to go home.
i want to go back to where he and i were. but different. i want the financial worries to be gone. i want him to have not had to go out on that last "out of town" trip that took so much out of him. i want to be safe financially. not wealthy. not rich. just safe. i want him to be safe and well. i want to be with him back where we were, haunting the water's edge, scavenging for treasures the ocean tosses up to see if we are paying attention.
i want his hands on my neck and shoulders. see, now that the clock is ticking and it is imperative that i find a job NOW, i work so hard to keep a clean apartment and to get these quilts done and the jeans done. if i am not working on something, if i stop work for the night before 10 PM i feel like i am lazy. i feel terrified that i am failing. and working on any commission work is not bringing me a weekly, or bi-monthly paycheck. i am terrified. i have panic attacks all through the day. it is my second job or i guess i multi-task. sew, send out resumes, fill out job applications, try to breathe.

if he were here we would figure this out together. if he were here i would deeply massage his tired muscles and in turn, he would gently massage my hands. he would deeply massage my neck and shoulders from being hunched over the sewing. if he were here someone would be touching me and i would not feel alone. my children are there and they are adults. thank God. but they are my children and i am supposed to take care of them. at least protect them. how can i protect them from you know who, from life, from everything that money can protect you from without having money? i cannot even take care of myself.
our life was not a fairy tale but it was as close as it could be without the money to feel secure. we loved. we loved each other. we loved where we lived. we loved the people we were getting to know. we loved the storms and the sunshine. we loved the seasons and our walks. we loved being with each other. every day was a blessing and we were working hard to build a future. his deal was falling through but the woman was charged with embezzlement and fraud. she is in prison, but my Dragon did not live to see that justice. he is removed from the pain of that and in a way, i am glad. but then i think about the time he was dying, and i wonder.

was he even cognitively processing? did he know he was dying? was he screaming in a voice no one heard that he could not leave me like this? did he die worried about me? that's when i shatter into a million pieces all over again. i want him to feel like his life was successful. i want him to know i love him and am proud of him. i want him to feel peace. i want him to forget the cruelties of this life and only know peace and relaxation and joy.

i hope Heaven has an ocean for him to be walking beside. and a place like Bearskin Neck. old places where passing time has no meaning.
i have been in a tailspin ever since he died. i am under so much stress, i am so afraid that i cannot grieve at times. i can only miss having him there to comfort me, help me, share with me the trials of life. i can only miss crawling into bed beside him "and all but your presence forget."

i am tired of fighting for a life. i would settle for an existence. i do not need much. my wants are fading with each passing day. dreams are something i write down in long hand in a journal that no one will see. trying to capture and keep hope close is like trying to light a trick candle. it is a cruel and embarrassing joke. i strike the match and the flame catches to the wick, but then it goes out. i keep striking match after match and i am running out of matches, and time. the darkness is coming, a dark so absolute i may as well be at the bottom of the Challenger Deep. it is a place where i will no longer be an artist. i will no longer be me. i will be prey. dramatic? maybe. truth? pretty close.

stress and fear are hindering my grief. i am not grieving. i am crying out for him to come and save me. Bunny's one long, single and only howl. please come back and save me, Dragon. i want to go home.
i need you, my darling, my darling
with it's yearning my very heart aches
the load that divides us weighs harder.
i shrink from the jar that it makes.
old sorrows rise up to beset me
old doubts make my spirit their own
oh, come through the darkness and save me
for i am alone.


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