For anyone that has ever lost anyone, especially someone that you interacted with on a regular basis, you know what fog I’m talking about. This fog isn’t just for those have endured a significant loss though, this is for anyone, on any caliber that has endured a traumatic experience in their life. A divorce, a diagnosis of a disease, an accident – any type of life altering change that has happened – you’ll know what I’m referring too. You see when I wrote this right away, it was written just on my account of the loss of my sister and the ‘fog’ that followed and haunted me after. But, as I’ve let it simmer in my drafts and touched base with some others – I’m realizing that fog isn’t only prevelant with a death. Whenever we endure any type of life event change – whether it was something building up through the years or something that happens unexpectedly we become engulfed in it, suffocated by it. The fog that followed Josie was different then the fog that followed my divorce. Just as I’m sure the fog that follows an individual that’s diagnosed with a terminal illness is different. But, in the grand scheme of things – I think it’s fair to say – it’s still a dense fog. So, whether you personally have stood on this exact same side or not, I’m willing to bet you know of someone that has, or is – or you’ve felt it regarding a different circumstance.
It’s a whirlwind of dense, almost blinding matter that restricts your vision from seeing outside of anything but that circumstance. It’s so numbing, deafening and blinding. And it sits in every cell of your body for a long time before you can even begin to start to feel an ounce of any other emotion that follows. It is a wound that on so many levels will never be healed, a deeply rooted scar that will make its presence known at any given time. It will stir up emotions you didn’t know you had and when you least expect them. In regards to a death – it begins with nothing but tears and ‘whys’ – followed by a lifetime of shoulda, coulda, wouldas…
There isn’t much I don’t remember about the overall demeanor and feel of not only ‘that’ day, but of the days, weeks and months to follow. The numbness, the complete inability to smile or laugh. I had even forbidden myself to indulge in fun, especially dancing! Instead, my days were filled with an uncountable amount of tears, to the point I literally had salt crystals on my eyelashes – no shit. They were consumed with my head against the pillow whenever I could, because the back of my eyelids were the only thing I wanted to see. Just make it go away, please, please PLEASE make it stop, when I wake up, it’ll all be better again. And then you wake up, day in and day out – to the same nightmare that you can’t escape from. To physically get up every day had become a chore I could barely manage – and when I did, well – that’s all you were getting from me. I was physically there, nothing more. I wanted to contemplate her decision, reread every letter, every journal entry, every text, interrogate every person she crossed paths with prior, in hopes of someone to blame. Because it didn’t make sense to me that it had gotten so bad, when she finally seemed so good! I mean sure – I knew she struggled with depression from the age of 11, but I had told her so many times ‘just be happy Jos, don’t worry about it, it’s going to be OK, lighten up! There’s no need to mope around, to not be able to laugh, quit being so serious, so grumpy, so sad!’ Man – the things we say to others so lightly – never taking the time to even want to attempt to step foot in their shoes. But isn’t that the way life’s supposed to be?! You just loosen up and have fun, right?! Right??
I mean, we would’ve saved her, we could’ve made it better, we should’ve made it better, why didn’t we make it better, why didn’t we see it, why didn’t we spend more time with her, be more attentive, look her in the eye? It took her being in the casket to give her more kisses then I even thought about giving her the 19 years she was here – see, if you would’ve done more, this wouldn’t have happened, you were selfish, caught up in your own superficial bullshit. Welcome to the very shortened version of years worth of this thought process. And this isn’t just suicide related – this is a survivor of anyone that you may have been close too, and especially of someone you may have lost unexpectedly. But, that’s pry an entry all on its own, most likely to be labeled ‘the heavy burden of regret ‘.
That fog – that terrible cloud that literally rains over you – it haunted me everywhere I went. That fog that seemed impossible to come out of, that reminded me that while the rest of the world around me got to go on – mine didn’t – not like it used too anyways. My mind was so consumed by nothing but this, it’s all I could think about – and yet I couldn’t even think all at the same time! This was the start of my new life…the start of what felt like the valleys of hell itself…
Continue reading A Lifetime Ago…or so it seems
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