January 28, 2010

For Khizzy, because this became too big for a comment.

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I'm unpredictable, and oversensitive and liable to fly-out-of-control the minute my father's name is mentioned, even now close to two years after his death. I know I need to get over it (somehow) and I know people who care try their best to reach out to me. And it frustrates both them and me that their efforts have no results.

I don't need solicitous care. I'm not the one who bled to death on a hospital table. Physically, I'm fine.

I don't need displays of self righteous anger directed at the police-who-haven't-figured-out-who-dun-it-yet. Do they think I don't know that they haven't done jack all aside from harassing my poor traumatized brother half to death?

I definitely don't need the gentle reminder that other people lose people they love also, they learn how to move on, and so should we. And I don't know how to tell them - for the nth time - that I'm a reasonably well-adjusted human being. I don't need anyone to tell me that I'm still grieving, I KNOW I'm grieving. And as superhuman as those other people are, I'm clearly not one of them.

I don't need long-drawn analogies of how-I've-changed-since. Ofcourse I've changed. What do they expect? I've been my father's darling since he picked me up, minutes after I was born. And vice versa. For me, so much of my life ended with him I had no idea what else to do but start over. Like life before August 2008 was just a pleasant dream. Reality started after. Have you ever had to re-invent your world? It's not pleasant. And sometimes, it's not even sane. But for some of us it's a necessary survival tool. So yes, I've changed. Maybe far more than I ever wanted to. But I'm never going to apologize for it. And you shouldn't expect me to.

I don't need to 'talk about it'. I don't 'want' to talk about it. Not to you. Not to anyone out there who thinks they can, but can never understand what we go through. Why would I 'need' to let you into my bubble of pain, explain to you what I feel and by putting words to it trivialize it? How can you think that by talking about him, by telling you-who-didn't-know-him how wonderful he was, I'll be able to appease some of the hurt inside? What makes you so very important for my sanity?

I don't need to be told over-and-over how I need to settle down so that I regain some stability in my life. I've studied Freud too darlings, and I can draw parallels between my tragedy and the number of times in the recent past I've derived comfort from a warm, male embrace. I admit, it's been easier to cry when I've been held. And it's definitely been a hell-of-a-lot easier to sleep. But I'm not husband hunting simply to fill a void. I've caused enough transient damage to my soul over the past two years. I have no desire to make it permanent.

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There is loss, and then there is loss.

There is death and then there is death.

And the truth is that's pretty much all I have to say about it.

6 comments:

Khizzy said...

:)
i really need to give you my email address.
but i know where you're coming from.
and exactly what i meant in my last comment.

although i think this post was maybe necessary.

Xeb said...

:)

I think so too. But venting on my blog while smiling away at 'them' (because I know they're genuine) is somewhat chicken-shit. Sigh.

Marina said...

*hugs you hard*

uglyduckling91 said...

I've been staring at this for too long.

Xeb said...

M: :)

ud: Err, I'm sorry? :P

Anonymous said...

'What thou lov'st well, remains, the rest is dross'.