Entry #64: Structure

Structure is a vital component of daily life, at least for me.

During this period of Covid, the structure that at one time helped to regulate my days seems to have vanished. As the days turn to weeks, and the weeks have turned to months, it appears that I am adrift most of the time.

My to do lists continue to grow. Those items on the list that have been completed continue to become smaller with each passing day.

Structure for me has been an elusive goal since losing Annie. What was once the backbone of my existence has failed me more and more as time progresses.

While I had managed to remove most people from my life, in order to refuse anyone else from observing my grief and lack of caring, there are a few people who I kept close. But, as Covid recedes and people get to go about their business in a more normative way, those two or three people now have better things to do.

Pushing everyone, save two or three individuals away, may have served me well in the past, but now, in the present, I am more isolated than I suppose I intended. I can recognize that I need to do something about this, yet there is a complete unwillingness to try and meet new people. I hold onto frail hope to be able to visit with them more often, but now that their lives are moving forward, I am confident I will be left behind. Rather than become the pest that they will shun, I retreat daily into the darkness that has given me comfort these past thirteen years.

It is tiring to watch myself from outside my own body as I struggle to remain relevant to those two or three people, when the truth of the matter revolves around my inability to let go of everything that Annie meant to me.

Most days, my mind is like a rudderless boat, adrift in the sea. Never knowing which direction it will take me. I start things I don’t finish, put off starting new things, with the knowledge that they won’t be finished either, and through it all, the few people who could and would listen to my ramblings, busy themselves with their own lives. I see them less and less frequently, which leaves me to revisit the dark times more and more often.

The darkness of my mind is the friend that provided me a structure of reliving my memories and grief, and I can now see that this friend is not done with me yet.

So there is that at least.

Entry #54: They Are Back

So, it’s been a couple of weeks since those three little words I wrote about, removed the dark cloud that always seems to follow me. At the time, I wondered how long that would last, and apparently I now have my answer.

Not long enough!

Last night, my mind recognized the fact that in 5 short weeks, I will be noting the thirteenth anniversary of Annie having left this world. Thirteen years of grief and guilt for having failed her in the only thing that mattered, by not being able to protect her from her own death.

As each day moves closer to that date, I struggle with what I might have done to change the outcome when I had the opportunity to do so. I struggle with those thoughts every day, because there is no answer for me. Questions without a resolution.

Logically, I know there was nothing I could have done to prevent her passing, but logic holds no solace for me. To face the fact that I could do nothing to change the outcome, is just not an acceptable premise. There must have been something, and yet, I cannot accept the fact that I had no power to produce a different result.

These thoughts have torn me apart for all of these years, and while I thought I might be able to now overcome them, I realize I was only fooling myself.

My three friends are back and all I can hope for, is that they have lost some of their power over me. As the date inexorably moves closer with each passing twenty-four hours, I dread the prospect of falling back into the darkness.

The darkness was a comforting and safe refuge from the prying eyes and judgmental actions of those who knew us. I have to wonder if that place is still my safe haven.

Entry #50: Broken

Admitting to yourself that you are a fundamentally broken person is a hard reality to accept. Hiding that fact from others is so much easier.

When Annie died, I became a broken person. In eight short weeks, the thirteenth anniversary of her death will be upon me, and if anything, I am more broken than when she first died. I simply cannot get beyond the fact that she is gone forever.

With the pandemic raging, there is less and less human contact with others, and that works to my benefit. Without in person meetings, I no longer have to put on a smiling face and deny my grief to others by appearing as a normal person. Normal is long gone for me.

Only one other human, (my muse “A”) who I know personally, understands my broken status, and even she does not know the whole of it, since she has never read the entirety of this blog. There is no one else to confide these facts in, as I am distrustful of most others, due to being judged over and over again for who I decided to love when Annie and I were planning out our lives together. I know in today’s world there is more acceptance of who Annie was, but it is not good enough for me. There still remains too much hate in this world for her and what we had together.

I often debate with myself about moving somewhere new, and attempting to start over again, but in my heart, I know it will not make any difference. While new scenery may be enjoyable, and moving to a place where no one knows me would be refreshing, nothing in my grief will change. I will just drag my baggage wherever I wander.

I accept my broken status. No…I actually revel in it. For, were I to explore therapy or medication to conquer my darkness and grief and move on, my memories of Annie may diminish if those things were to be resolved. I can never allow those memories to fade away, as they are the most intimate part of me left.

The world is full of broken people, and I am just one of them. I may one day meet someone who would take the time to ask the right questions, and pierce my wall of silence, but I don’t hold out much hope. I will carry on in my own broken way, reliving all these memories Annie and I made together as long as I keep breathing.

Entry #47: A Scary Mind

Sometimes, my mind goes to places that scare even me. The darkest corners of my mind always give me solace, and a type of peace that most folks would not understand. Hell, many times I don’t understand how the dark places give me what I need.

Normally I do not remember my dreams at night, unless they are about Annie. The one constant for me in the early mornings as I awake is that when my eyes finally pop open, it is with the recollection of an event or time spent with Annie.

So, it was shocking to me the other day that when I awoke, it was from a dream that I was having about my new friend “A”. It was as clear as a cloudless sky and there we were, spooning together in bed. Now to be clear, we haven’t even exchanged a kiss or anything other than hello or goodbye hugs.

And…it wasn’t about having sex or making love or anything like that, because that was not a part of the dream. It was about just having our bodies touching each other, holding each other tight and enjoying the connection of the moment.

Where that dream came from escapes me. One of those dark corners decided to open up and show me something new.

That scared me awake for sure. And…as dreams go, I sure enjoyed that one.

I wonder if it will turn up again one of these days…