You know what's weird? Ever since I posted about Charles suicide last week, I feel like I have so much more to blog about now. I feel like opening up more and more. I still have so much more on my heart than I thought.
Tonight the memories make me want to puke. I was literally just standing in the shower and I wanted to throw up.
Last year on the 1 year anniversary, my best friends took me on a little day adventure to ensure I wouldn't be sitting at home, dwelling on it. It worked so well. I didn't cry that entire day. But you know what I did do 2 days later at work? Melted the hell down...because I hadn't gotten it out.
This year, I purposely scheduled our beach trip to start on that day, again, so I wouldn't be dwelling on every detail of the day and that too, worked. No major tears on the 17th....but here I sit tonight, feeling sick and wanting to cry.
What is it about this that I still need to work through? Everything I wrote last week about my husband and his mental illness was true. I honestly don't blame him and I'm not mad at him. But ugh, I'm so blah.
I'm replaying everything. At this point 2 years ago, we had already had his service and everything was so final. Family and friends went back home, people were starting to go back to work and I was still here. I was left to be a mother to a toddler all alone, and I didn't have a clue what that would mean or what that would look like. Six days into it, I knew I was still in a fog and even though I didn't know a damn thing, I think I still knew. Does that even make sense? Of course it doesn't.
I was in a deep deep level of denial and anger. And guilt. I had no idea what kind of roller coaster those 3 things would put me through but I knew it wasn't going to be pretty. It's like when you're about to rip off a bandage and you close your eyes first. My eyes were closed for several months, if not a year, and the band aide was getting peeled off slowly. Little by little, a piece would go, and my eyes were closed tight the entire time.
Tonight I keep thinking about those days. They were so hard because I couldn't just jump in. I couldn't just ripp it off. I knew there were stages of grief I had to go through and that they couldn't be rushed.
It's so crazy to me how much one can feel during this. There are days that I just keep scrolling through pictures of he and I and it helps. Because memories help. Days like today though, man, eff those memories. Make them stop. Make me stop replaying those days over and over. They're there like a bad dream. I knew so little two years ago and it's like the Samantha today, is sad for the Samantha then. The today Samantha wants to erase that part of life for the two-years-ago Samantha.
Memories suck today and I hate this week. I hate this month. I hate that I don't understand grief. I hate that I'm here, unable to even write a post that makes sense.