Getting lost in the rain...

This year I lost two people. Two of the hardest relationships I ever had...or didn't have, I guess. My father died. On April 13th, and just two weeks ago on November 17th, my grandma also passed away. I knew their passing was coming. I always knew theirs would come first. I guess I thought that meant I was prepared. I wasn't.

Death is so permanent. It's final. You realize that that was all the time you had. To do all of your yelling, all of your talking things over. Then you are all that's left of your half of the relationship and you don't know what to do with it. You can still do your forgiving, but it feels so different when the person is gone. It takes the air out of your anger, and that's hard when all you've been is angry.

I saw my grandmother die. I saw her awake for her last words. I saw her small and frail and helpless. As vulnerable as I have ever seen anyone. All the anger I ever had was gone...like it had never been there.

I wasn't there when my father died. I tell myself it doesn't matter... we never really knew each other. I pretend it's okay now because a couple months before he died I chose to forgive him. When he passed I tried to feel comfort in believing he knew I forgave him. I thought it was harder for the family that always loved him. I'm not so sure.

I have been thinking a lot about mortality. Especially my mother's. My grandmother was 83, my father was 79...their deaths were chronological. I almost made it to my twenty-eighth year before losing someone I loved. That is pretty lucky. What scares me is that it is likely that I will be taken by suprise by the next death I face. And I can't take losing anyone else for a long time.

I thought I was prepared to lose those two...but how can you ever prepare yourself for loss like that?

*****

So, here's where I get really depressing ;) (I apologize in advance...)

I have been very, very sad for a long time. I don't want to say depressed. When you use the word depression these days people tend to think of it as just something you pop a pill for. Or, if you happen to already be medicated, then just up your dosage, right? It's more than that. I am sad. Deeply. I don't talk about it. Not really.

People ask how I am. I say..."Good, thanks!" I smile at everyone. I try to think positively. I don't talk about it. No one wants to hear you say, "I'm pretty sad actually."

I do what I can y'know. I try to keep my shit together. I try to be nice to people. I try to tolerate my family without cursing at them or throwing things. It sounds funny, but it's the truth. My mom called me yesterday, she was having a huge panic attack. She said she couldn't breathe, her heart was racing. The day before she called crying because she didn't know if she could "make it through" and was on the "edge". The truth is that I am no better equipped at hearing things like that from my mother now, than I was at fourteen when she started saying them.

*****

I drove home today and got caught in traffic as I often do. It was worse than usual. And dark. AND raining. It was stop and go. More stop than go. I looked out my window for a moment and wondered, "what if I just opened my car door and got out? Left my car running, my purse on the passenger seat and walked away in the rain. Never show up for work, take all the cash I have and go as far away as I can." I think those thoughts often.

I remember learning about a type of amnesia called "fugue" in highschool psychology. It's almost like a type of disociative disorder. The patient basically finds themselves one day in a different place, with a different name and a different life, and they don't know how they got there. They don't even realize that they are someone else. They don't remember their old life. Ever since I learned about fugue it was facinating to me. Appealing at times. It makes you consider the people you see on freeway offramps holding signs in the rain.