Underneath...

I thought I’d take some time today and write about all the things I don’t want to write about but need to get out. There’s all this stuff living under my skin that needs to be exploded out but I can think of 4,000 other things I’d rather be doing. The more I put off my writing, the crazier I eventually get and I don’t feel like going too far down that road.
I keep putting off my journal, this blog and everything pertaining to my mental health, simply because it’s damn hard. It hurts to write and well, I’m in denial that I’m feeling anything short of sparkly right now. People have brought it to my attention. They say they know I’m hurting and they’re there for me. I believe that they’re there, it’s just that I don’t believe I’m hurting. Or really, I don’t want to admit that I am.
So that manifests itself in other ways. I withhold some things I enjoy from myself while overindulging in other things that I also enjoy but aren’t so good for me. Food has been a problem the last couple of weeks. I hate it, but give into it anyways. It’s the temporary relief from whatever it is that is bothering me that I look for when reaching for something when I’m not hungry. Work is slower than I’d like, leaving more time to think, make excuses for certain things while eating my way through my boredom.
Making the sparklies has also distracted me from writing. Instead of getting up and writing at Inman Perk, I get up and put together a new necklace, working until it’s time to get ready to go to the salon. It’s so much easier to sit in my quiet room while the sun is coming up than going out into the world, carrying on conversations with other ‘regulars’ at the coffee shop, pretending everything is fine.
I went for a quick run through Piedmont Park today. I knew better than to go in the middle of the afternoon during a hot summer day but I couldn’t help it. I’m filled with nervous energy and anxiety. It’s quiet in the park. All I can hear is the music playing from my iPOD and my feet striking the pavement. I run past the swing Rob and I sat in the first Sunday we spent together. We were holding hands watching the sky turn gray, my knees drawn up to my chest while his feet pushed the swing back and forth. It was so easy to sit there and talk to him. We both unloaded all kinds of things on each other. Maybe it was easier to talk about hard stuff because we weren’t facing each other but knew the other one was listening intently. I remember turning my head, resting my chin on his shoulder, and inhaling his delicious, clean laundry smelling self and smiling while he talked.
I still feel a bit of anger is lingering, waiting to come out again at some point. I said I wasn’t angry at Rob but maybe there’s a piece of me that is. Yeah. I’m angry that I felt he was in such a hurry to leave the morning he died when I was trying so hard to just be with him. Trying to get him to sit still and realize there was no emergency for him to go running off to. I’m angry he put that key in the ignition… leaving all of us.
On the flip side though, and this is the side that completely extinguishes the bubbling anger… April 20th was a beautiful day. Perfect temperature, big fluffy clouds. I got to wake up that morning knowing he was right there, got to touch him, kiss him, and tell him I loved him. He died doing what he loved most. I’m guessing most people who have left the Earth were not doing what they loved most on the day they died.
The anger in general terrifies me. I hate saying I’m angry with him. Afraid that wherever he is, he won’t love me anymore. It’s the one emotion I’m most scared of experiencing and the one I have the most of. I squash it down, trying not to let it happen when I feel it towards other people, somehow thinking they’ll no longer be there, no longer wanting anything to do with me. I was angry with Rob for leaving so early that morning, and he died. I don’t believe he died because I was angry, it’s just… it keeps me from ever wanting to feel that way towards anyone ever again.
Of course that’s unrealistic and crazy…
I’m still craving a physical connection with another human. I will never find a replacement for Rob. It’s just that everything happened so fast. There was this really intense relationship then nothing at all. One day I’ll be able to write more about this, but it’s really confusing and hard to identify what it feels like to want to indulge this part of the madness. I didn’t think I’d even look at another human that way for a long time but I’m right in the middle of it. I don’t want anything to do with a random person though. I’m quite scared of being completely vulnerable again.
It feels everything is scary right now. I’m not always sure where to turn or where to go. How do I describe what it feels like to want to be completely anonymous but wrapped up in someone’s love all at the same time? How do I ‘sit with’ my grief and not overindulge in delicious things that eventually will be the end of me? How do I ask God for help when He took Rob? I think I have too many questions but how can I not? I don’t understand anything. I don’t understand why any of this happened, why I met Rob, why everything was so intense, why he got 26 years on the Earth when other people got several decades, why I feel like a crazy person, why I’m pissed off, why I feel like I have to have answer for everything when maybe I don’t.