what grieving is

there is this weird place in grief where you just want nothing more than for time to pass. you're not feeling any of the emotions, you're just numb. i guess numb is the word. it's a holding pattern - anyone who's been in an actual holding pattern on a plane knows this sensation, the loud roar of the engines, the totally sensory overload of the constant roaring and the bright neon airplane lights and the twist and jerk of turbulence.

part of me wishes i could just feel all the grief at once, at my convenience. block out an afternoon and go through all the stages, in order. work through my denial and feel all the sadness i will ever feel about this, break for tea, move to anger and bargaining. then i could look back for always with only wistfulness and regret. that might be perfect.

but stupid humans don't stupid work like that. (i hope you laughed at that, it was a funny transition. see? i can still be funny. that's the strange thing about grief. you are Supposed To Be Grieving, but you want to do everything else WHILE you grieve - part of you is desperately clutching at normal, and still wants to be funny or silly or sexy or flatulent or whatever fill-in-the-adjective that is supposed to contain some aspect of your fragile human existence.)

and while you're in Holding Pattern Grief, you can't DO anything. you have to strike just the right chord of distraction and be careful with it. too little distraction and the pain comes on and you can't deal with it right now and it tries to suck you under and you either fight it and pull yourself out or go with it. Holding Pattern Grief is good for when you still have to function, like waiting for the bus or train, going to get food, in between classes. but too much distraction and it's unbearable, you can't stand to be around these people who are Normal when you are Not. and that can make you angry or bring on random tears or outbursts. so you have to be careful.

i forgot how mundane grief is. in the two years, i've forgotten. when i tried to write about it, i did what everyone does - i wrote the sexy, dramatic parts. it's much more interesting to see the falling to the knees and dramatic sobbing. it's the waiting, the numb dragging hours, that no one wants to know about. because it feels like a death sentence, this dull thudding pain.

but a HUGE part of the grieving process is the sheer number of hours you spend. with people who love and understand. doing nothing.

we spent hours in the brown house. laying there. not saying much of anything. people played halo, people put on movies. people came and went. we ate because eating is What You Do, not what we felt like. we watched movies at shakira's, ate from her copious chocolate supplies, made tea. a whole lot of nothing, but with a completely different tinge. we went to walmart and target and gas stations. we got restless.

grief is boring and restless.