Three days ago, yesterday and thankfully not so far today; I have been a complete recluse. An emotional mess. I very rarely take a quick spiral down and cant pick myself up again. It took me until today to really get there. To not suck the life out of my own presence. I cancelled and avoided a social commitment I was rather excited to be a part of.
I lost my "bonus" grandfather on Thursday. I was lucky enough to have 8 grandparents at some point in my life. Well not exactly. I never knew my StepMother's mom. I barely knew my own mother's mother. Very strong women who even though I only knew one for a short period of time have impacted my life. But out of those 8, only 2 remain. My maternal Grandfather and my StepDad's mother.
The problem with a big huge large ginormous family? They can't last forever. Though truthfully I have tricked my mind into thinking that my immediate family is indeed going to. I have always wanted to live to be 100 years old.
But I want every other person related to me right there with me. Complettely unrealistic I am aware. However my delusions of grandeur have not allowed me to really process how horrific 100 just might be if I keep up this pace.
There is a resounding darkness in my life. It is death. I am not afraid of death for myself. I have no real qualms about it. I understand that one's time comes and one does not avoid, the end. (If you have seen a Final Destination or 5 you'd know that by now)
However, I have been exposed to death early and often. I was young when my grandmother passed away. I had a neighbor in a court I lived for a long time pass away. I recently lost my other Bonus Grandfather and my Paternal Grandmother and Grandfather.
I've lost two aunts, an uncle and most devastatingly, a best friend. Each of which I went to experience their funerals. My time to say goodbye. If I did not already get a chance to.
There in lies the problem. If I am only faced with the result and not the days weeks months, leading up to the end. I cannot wrap my head around it.
I feel as if the person was stolen from me.
Supremely selfish I am aware. I am consumed with the robbery. I cannot bring myself to an understanding that allows me to keep moving. Unless I must.
I am very good at putting on a brave face. My father taught me that one. And I can be other peoples rock. I can lift people as high as they are willing to go on my shoulders. I can support and remain positive for as long as necessary...for someone else. My mother taught me those traits.
For myself I go deep. I go dark. I can't see the way out. It's my way. I spiral down, and when all alone. Usually when I am driving.. my tears come. Quickly and ugly usually. I don't spend more than 10 minutes on one cry sesh and then I move on.
Unless I need more. And death.. usually requires more.
When I lost my best friend. It changed the way I felt about death.
She was so important to me. I loved her way of living. I love the way she affected people. I love the attitude she had. She was less of a best friend and more of a role model. I looked up to her. She was my age, but she was light years ahead of me.
I will never forget what I felt that day. It was a scene from a horror movie. The call, I dropped the phone and let out a guttural scream. I was "there" instantly. I called my father and uttered maybe 3 words.
"Nicole, she's.. gone"
I don't even think he understood them so he rushed home in the middle of the day to pick up his college aged daughter who was most definitely on the floor. Struggling to grasp any reason she would have been chosen to leave this earth.
I never did come to that understanding. I still would like to take it up with the man upstairs and claim he might have made a mistake.
I wear a blue bracelet, Every. Single. Day. to commemorate her. I think about her often. I talk to her mother and brother. I am at every event the foundation set up in her name, puts on. Her life affected me, her death will affect me for the rest of my life.
I hope writing this provides me with a bit of catharsis that I can continue today and not have a dark moment. I am heading to my family this evening to do the whole memorial thing in the next two days. Two days ago I flat out did NOT want to feel. I drank an entire bottle of wine to myself that night. No feeling. It was how I needed to cope. I knew it was coming.
I know my own soul and the way it works, and it hurts. I wanted to "feel" as little possible leading up to the fact that I knew I was going to be there tomorrow and Tuesday. Ugh. I don't even like writing about it because it makes it real.
On Tuesday I will get to say goodbye and hug and feel the support of many others who are saddened by our loss. And I will be much much better.