Wednesday, August 24, 2011

I would like my normal back now, please.

I just can't seem to right my ship. I can't find my normal, but I know I want it back.

Laurel's death has left me in a place I haven't found myself before - in a spot that I can't "reason" myself out of. No logical thought, step-by-step process or rational thinking is taking me from point a to point B. I am flabbergasted that this loss has knocked me down in a way that nothing else has. I mean, I didn't talk to her everyday. I haven't physically laid eyes on her in years. I hadn't even met her two youngest daughters. But that girl had worked her way into my soul - obviously into one of those places I didn't even know existed because I don't know how to deal with it now that it is exposed.

I get to the point that I think I am on the right track, but then one little (or not-so-little) thing throws me off kilter again. I have less patience than normal (which means I now have ZERO patience), I can't keep the house picked up or get dinner cooked and I just want to run screaming into the night when the car battery dies or the cat pukes on the rug or I wash and dry a pen.

If I went to the doctor, I would bet I would get a diagnosis of depression.

But before my 3 readers (especially you, Mom) freak out and stage an intervention, I would like to say that I KNOW this isn't forever and I KNOW it will get better. I am not spending my days crying or contemplating suicide or coming up with an alternate identity so I can take off for parts unknown. I am familiar with the nature of these things and I fully expect that before long I will once again be riding the high crests of the waves rather than sputtering down here in the troughs. The long and the short of it - some things just suck right now. Not many things, not most things, just some things. And this is one of the blessings of living - having the ability to feel...ALL of it - the good and the bad. I thank God every day that I am here to feel it all. I know I am truly blessed.

But I still want my normal back. And sooner rather than later would be preferable. Pretty please?


Debi said...

*hugs my sweet beautiful friend tightly yet gently*

I'm sooooo sorry it's taking so long for normal to come back, Kara. I wish there was something I could do to help it along. Do remember that I'm here. Any time you need me. Instead of running screaming into the night, turn on the computer or pick up the phone and scream to me. I don't pretend that I have any answers, but sometimes just knowing that someone hears my screams helps me.

Kara, I love you. So much.

Cagey (Kelli Oliver George) said...

I hope you are not being hard on yourself about this. What you have written sounds completely NORMAL to me and you can't cure normal.

Feel free to email me if you need to get a string of garbledly gook outta your brain.

I think what has hit me the most in my own little grief process is the rising paranoia that I will not be here for my kids. Or that my husband won't know what to do/passwords to accounts/etc. I keep telling him "If I'm not here" and I think he is getting tired of being reminded of that.

Anyway - not sure if those things are on your mind or not.

I will say this, I have given MUCH consideration to my blog over all of this. And in some ways it is more important than ever as a place for my kids someday.

Jean said...

I have never had (yet) to deal with the pain of losing an old friend, but what you are going through sounds something like what I went through when my dad died. It takes time, and it recurs unexpectedly even after you think it's over. Hang in there! And if you don't want to scream at Debi, I can give you my phone number to scream at me instead. Hugs!

kreed said...

Thanks y'all! It really means a lot to know I have so many ears and shoulders when I need them!