One day...

It has been a while since I last blogged... nine days to be precise! The last few days have been some of the worst days of my life. I've been experiencing a gamut of emotions, all of which threated to take the life out of me, in a very literal sense of that sentence. 

First October loomed large with suicidal thoughts. I was at my lowest low that evening and couldn't have gotten any lower. I messaged a very close person, told him exactly what and how I was feeling. Strangely, in spite of feeling as low as I did, his reply lifted me a little. Still, it did nothing to those ever-looming suicidal thoughts; they were playing themselves in my head, and I then explained how futile it was for me to live. He called me and I cried and cried and cried and cried - and with those tears, I overcame a little more grief. 

Considering my state of mind, I choose to have very few people in my world - my immediate family and a few close, selected friends, all of whom I can say anything to. During a time as hard as this, we're very, very vulnerable and whom we choose to associate ourselves with, makes all the difference. Who you pick is really up to you - basically, anyone you're comfortable with, anyone you can call on and anyone you can depend on, anyone who will listen to you without judging you, and of course, anyone who will give you a slap on your wrists when you need them.

We're usually in shock during and immediately after the passing away of a loved one. While in shock, we're insulated from the pain, life is a little more bearable, and we'll often surprise ourselves into believing that we're as strong as we think we are. However, once that shock wears off (and it will), reality hits us worse that a bolt of lightening. It's then and only then that we start dealing with the true intensity of what we're feeling, and in some cases, not feeling. Even though I go to work, I break down and cry if I have to, and I totally do. Go to the restroom and sob, cry, let those tears flow. 

So far, I limit my tears at home because I don't want my mum to see them, however, I break down whenever and wherever I want as this is essential to the healing process. I've been reading a lot on healing and while there's no set way we overcome grief such as this, the stages of grief are the same. Some of us may take longer than others, but it's imperative that we feel all those stages, no matter how hard it is. It has been nine days since October and I've been at my lowest low for all these days, hell, I'm low now, as I type this. 

I've also received a few lectures along the way - people telling me that I have to pick myself up, that I have to let dad go, that at a spiritual and philosophical level I should know that this is for the best, etc. All I can say is that while I'm intellectually tuned into all of the above, nothing and I mean nothing of that makes sense to me right now, and it really shouldn't. When one is as blind and deaf with pain and grief as I am at the moment, do you think I really care about all the above? No!

People say that time heals, but I disagree. I believe that time doesn't heal everything, it just makes the intensity of pain less and the grief more bearable. The loss of a parent is a loss that we live with for the rest of our lives; it's not a loss we overcome, but a loss we live with... right now, it may seem impossible, but somewhere deep down I know that eventually I'll live with this pain... eventually. 

Till then, I'll cry, break down, fight suicidal thoughts (which is also a part of the grieving process), cut out the world, stay silent, do whatever it takes to help me honour my father's memory and mourn him... only through this mourning will I be able to start living again... one day!

Daddy's message - Do whatever works for you to get yourself through this. Lots and lots of well-meaning people will have words of advice, methods of life, etc., but ONLY YOU know your journey, ONLY YOU know what you're going though and ONLY YOU know what'll get you through. If you feel like you're losing control or you're on the trigger, please call on anyone, and I mean anyone you trust.       

Another tomorrow

The endlessness of time - its wily, ceaseless, choking vines propel me towards a slow, very slow culmination of yet another day. This Sunday, 30 September, 2012, is the seventh Sunday since my daddy passed away. It's all still very implausible, surreal, unbelievable... preposterous, almost!

Ever so often, I find myself sitting and staring into space; it's nice, comfortable, especially since I don't want to move. It takes a great amount of effort to fake a smile these days, but I manage to do it anyway. I doubt I can stand another talk about "the will of God" from well-meaning family and friends. No offence to anyone, really, except that each of us grieve differently, feel differently; there really is no one way of getting over the loss of a parent.

If I'm at home on a Sunday evening, and I usually am, I trace the minutes of 12 August, 2012. How well I remember my daddy walking out of our home, how well I remember his lemon shirt, how well I remember him asking me if I needed more money for my massage later that evening. If there was ever a time I felt pain squeeze at my heart, it's now, it has been since that day.

Some of the greatest spiritual leaders and philosophers maintained that the only things permanent on earth are life and death - everything in between is transitional, a mere illusion, maya! I agree for the most part, but besides life and death, I believe that love is another component that's permanent in an otherwise meaningless existence.

All the emotions that rule our lives during our time on earth are born from love. This pain, sorrow and sense of absolute loss that I feel now are also born from love, love for my daddy who I miss so very much. I talk to dad, tell him I love him, tell I miss, ask him for forgiveness... he and me, we have our conversations, conversations we never had while he was here.

See, in spite of knowing how short life is, I always believed in another tomorrow - another tomorrow to talk to him, another tomorrow to make things right, another tomorrow to buy him those macaroons... I just didn't expect that this another tomorrow wouldn't come at all, not in this world at least. What am I left with right now?

Let's see - for starters, I'm still reeling from the shock of his sudden, untimely departure. For all my spiritual leanings, THIS does not seem right, in fact it seems like a nightmare, a nightmare I'm willing myself to wake up from. I slap myself, pinch myself, pull my hair, all in an effort to wake up, but I am still seemingly in the damn nightmare. And, if this is in fact my life now, then the magnanimity of this loss shall surely engulf me, of that I'm sure.

But somehow, in spite of it all, I find myself being carried - I may feel like my head is under the water, but I am still being carried.

Today, I was going through a landslide of emotions, all of loss, pain, despair. I find that every waking moment of mine is spent thinking of my daddy while I simultaneously continue to fulfill the other mundane tasks that are essential to life. Sleep, sleep is only level of consciousness that soothes me... at least a little. I see my daddy in my dreams, my nana, I see them smile and that reassures me that they're happy in their world; they're watching us, protecting us, guiding us and loving us in ways and depths that are unfathomable to our limited human heart and mind.

Indeed, dreams are very often messengers, quiet little commissionaires of a hidden world. A place of solace that saves me from an otherwise painful, painful existence; a place I meet my nana, my daddy, both of whom tell me that they're with me always. The only reason I look forward to another tomorrow is because I know that I'll meet my daddy and nana before tomorrow dawns... and every so often, I hope, just hope that my dreams will be never ending ones.... beyond many other tomorrows...