Surface...

I’ve been struggling with two different issues lately. One is of course, this grief. I don’t understand it, or why it lasts for so long or the waves of it that come in and go out with little warning. I also don’t understand how people can look at me and simply say “you need to get over it, let it go, move on.” If you’re so adept at this, you tell me how. You tell me how to get over something that is so devastating there are no words for it. No one can simply do that when the person they loved so much is dead. Not simply gone somewhere else on the Earth but no longer living. I look at Rob’s pictures and smile at him, sometimes thinking “I can’t wait to hear from him” or “I need to go up to Anderson sometime.” Can’t. He’s not there. Not in Anderson, Atlanta, or Stockbridge. He’s not on vacation, he won’t show up on my doorstep, and he’s not going to pick up the phone. I can write him all day long but there’s no where to send the letters. It’s like an awful game of Hide-n-Seek but it only ends with you running around alone because what you’re looking for no longer exists.
I can’t look at the pictures for too long. It creates this unbelievable wanting that eats away at my head, making me try to think of a way I can go back and have him again. I can’t begin to tell you what’s that like. I can imagine him smiling at me, hear his voice, remember what his skin and hair feels like but I can’t actually have it again. It’s maddening.
On top of that there is issue number two. I don’t even know where to go with this one. It’s again, beyond my comprehension, and like the grief, when I think about it too much it makes me crazy.
It’s no joke when people say that when you lose someone, it changes your life. I don’t know if I just didn’t believe these people, or didn’t think it could happen to me, but they’re so right. I’m still me, but a different version. It’s almost like I’m becoming the person I always was on the inside but never shared with anyone. (Until Rob of courseJ )
On one side it’s freeing. It’s like opening your eyes to see a spectacular day ahead of you and you can’t wait to set out and discover what that day will bring you. On the other side, it’s scary and unknown. I’m quick to retreat back to old ways of thinking and old habits. They aren’t the healthiest but it’s comfortable.
I’ve been trying to spend more time on the spectacular side and working through the fear of the unknown lately, instead of retreating. It’s causing some rifts in various relationships. I’m changing and they’re not. I feel I’m actually handling things differently and that feels good but again, scary.
I’ve gone back and read some journal entries from when Rob was still here. I hear my voice through the words but it’s like I don’t recognize myself. It’s as if I can see a clear line between this former self and the new self. The line divides these selves the moment my dad said Rob was dead. From that moment on, I feel I’ve been an open book. I’ve suddenly started talking to people, wanting to connect with someone on some level, any level. In return I’ve received more love and understanding than I ever knew possible. Of course though, every positive has a negative and right now the negative is grating pretty hard. I feel I am completely alone in ways I never thought possible. My co-worker Kristen told me not too long ago, “Melissa, when Rob died, it’s like all your issues came to the surface. So you get to deal with everything all at the same time. When you’re done you’re going to be a whole new person!”
She’s definitely right about all that. No one said it was going to kick my ass this hard though. Issues that were buried deep in the marrow of my bones are now being pushed to the surface. I’m in the middle of learning what my own identity is, what it looks like to be the person I am, to be proud of myself, my opinions, my choices, my life, even if it hasn’t been the popular route. I had been so focused of the “should’ve, could’ve, would’ve” that I wasn’t really living. I got too caught up in what everyone thought about me instead of accepting that some people will like me, some won’t, and it doesn’t mean I have to change who I am.
I’d love to stand here and say “sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me” but that’s not true. Everything hurts. I still don’t like admitting it. I miss Rob and these growing pains are enough to make me want to disappear.