Unstick what is stuck.
Rene died. Rene died. Rene died. Rene died. Words I have maybe said five times. Those times would have been right when it happened and then I refused to say it. His death so publicized I never really had to tell anyone. Occasionally on the phone to a government agency or utility companies, but in those exchanges I was a robot. I would pick days when I was mad enough to actually get that stuff done and just disconnect from what I was saying. I had noticed I would only refer to it as, ‘the accident’. I knew it, you knew it, and some people mentioned it to me, however I wasn't able to speak differently. But the time has come...
Unstick what is stuck.
Someone posted in a comment that they thought the six month mark would bring about a peaceful change for me. When I read those words only a few days before six months they read as true. I felt them as real, but couldn't see how. I was stuck in this bewildering manic place. Not sleeping more than a few hours a night, never really tired but kinda edgy. I was not in a great place. Not that many of the places since Rene's death have been great but the last month has seemed to be a new kind of unsettled. Regardless, I read that comment and felt that she was right, things were about to shift. I just didn’t know how.
Therapy. That's how.
I saw her on Monday, and she is a saving grace. It is like she opened little spaces for me to feel. For me to say what I didn't even know I was suppressing. Death is a fucked up thing and I am stuck in the complexity that my feelings won't be rational but are still true. That I will be conflicted and things won’t make sense and I need to make peace with that.
This process is dynamic, so many shifting parts, and the whole way along there has been talk about me taking medication. I have resisted, even though I could see that I was struggling. I didn't want to add an extra layer of side effects. So yes, for about a month I barely slept but refused sleeping aids. I knew it was related to Rene’s death and even if I covered it up it would still be there. I trusted the process and my ability to somehow work through this. In each stage I have just been with what arose, with what was passing through me at that time. Trying to fully live it, as fucked up as it is, it is still my life. I want to be present for my own life.
On Monday night I slept, and I woke up feeling like a normal person. I still went for a run at the lake but as a choice not a compulsion. There is a level of steadiness in me that has been missing for sometime. I have a lot of work to do but feel like for me the six month mark was a huge turning point. I had no idea that I booked my session one day short of six months, she sent some dates and I picked one that was three weeks away. But there it was, when the student is ready the teacher will arrive.
I will get used to saying, Rene died, which I actually have to practice since it gets stuck in my throat. One day less of six months I took my engagement and wedding ring off. I never even wanted those rings, I didn't need a ring to know I had a great love. But Rene was so proud of it and from the moment I wore it, it felt right and I liked what it said to the world. So going out without it I feel naked, I feel vulnerable. My finger still showing the whisper of a ring, the skin extra soft, a slight tan line, and an indent only noticeable to my touch when I mindlessly go to play with it forgetting it's gone. Then today I took down most of our pictures from around the house, and packed up the rest of his clothes from the closet. Our house to My house, Our lives to My life, We to Me, Us to I.
This for me is a testament to trusting the process, to fully engaging, and to being an active participant to my healing. I have trusted my ability to really do this since the beginning, wavered a little in the worst of moments, but stayed true. No covering it up, no hiding, and no medicating. I have had to push pretty hard for that, no one wanted to watch me suffer. But finally I feel like things are changing, like I am going to be OK.
~with love on your healing journey.