DISCLAIMER: The following post is sad and deals with death. If unwilling to read on this topic the upbeat tone of Creole Thrift will resume Friday.
Many people hold the mistaken belief that one experiences the stages of grief sequentially. One after the preceding stage in a neatly organized line. A line which will only last two years tops then fade away cleanly in a mist of acceptance. A mist used to serve as an example that eventually the grief will completely absolve and everything will be ok.
Unfortunately this is not true. At least it has not been true for me. The stages of grief for me which were brought about by my mama’s unexpected (to me) death about four years ago have never completely faded away into a mist of acceptance. In fact, they fail to occur linearly at all. Preferring to flare up sporadically like a cold sore on someone with herpes.
I am in a state of acceptance the majority of the year. When I say that I’m ok I really am. If anything I am always slightly angry at her for leaving me when I need her most. She was my friend as well as someone who would love me unconditionally despite all of my faults. She was my biggest fan and my mom. You only get one of those; and I don’t have one.
It pains me to think of all the milestones that I will be forced to make without her. How happy she would be to see me get married or to play with her grandchildren.
Every year on my birthday and her deathday I am reminded of this absence. This leads to a depression preceding the day by at least a week. My depression consists of me overindulging in my dopamine releasing drug of choice, exercise. Exercise may be considered a “good” addiction, but it’s an addiction nonetheless. Also when 8+ hours of exercise are coupled with the lack of appetite and starvation that may accompany depression, lightheadedness and/or fainting is inevitable.
I honestly don’t know what to do, say, feel etc. What do you suggest?