Thursday, March 31, 2011

Two years...

It's count down time.  We woke up to the doorbell sometime between 1am and 2am.... tonight, 2 years ago.  

Two long, deliriously horrible years.  I have learned lessons I never wanted to learn. Like how to breathe when your lungs have collapsed, how to smile when you want to scream, how to make your heart beat when your chest is an empty cavern.  But most importantly how to keep loving the ones who are holding you up when you think your world has ended.   

I realized awhile back that the reason I don't write much anymore is that I am escaping into myself or into work.  I wrote every chance I could get that first year because that was my escape.  Putting everything I felt on paper because I couldn't live with my feelings inside me.  I wanted to rip myself apart so I ripped into writing down my fury.  Now, I have found that I can control my grief by segmenting myself.  I cry when no one is around at home, in bed while trying to go to sleep, in my car when driving, etc. If I'm around people and I feel like I'm losing it, I have to stop, doing breathing exercises or I will implode.  Or should I say become a blubbering idiot.  

I can look at pictures of Mary now, but not for too long.  I don't like looking at her clothes because they are empty.  Her favorite jacket hangs downstairs waiting for her to grab it and go outside.  He hiking shorts are hanging beside them.  I wear her hiking boots on cold days.  Danny and I both wear the hats she crocheted.  Julie carries one of the purses she made.  I still have the one she was carrying that night, this night, two years ago.  

I still have many unanswered questions of myself.  Will I always be like I am today in 20 years?  Hell, will I even be alive in 20 years.  Maybe we'll be together by then.  Who knows.

I used to think people who loved each other as much as we do in my family that we had a life force "connection". I may have said this in past months.  I should have felt something when the crash happened.  But even when Danny got sick those two times, I didn't know anything until I saw him. 

I still don't want to remove the pain from my life lest I remove Mary's memories.  The only way I can see myself not hurting anymore is to erase Mary and I can't do that.  I have to keep figuring out ways to keep going while reducing the pain.  Almost sound clinical, doesn't it.   

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