I feel like writing, though it has been awhile and likely nobody reads this anymore anyway. that is the beauty of this world wide web, you can write to your hearts content, pretending there is someone out there listening, and hoping that maybe just maybe you will make a difference somewhere to somebody...
What a great outlet we have in the Internet. See I feel better already.
I have been thinking as well as not thinking and at times trying not to think. Anxiety is creeping back in. It may be that I am a bit tired. It is nice that I can stay up much later and not crash (or explode) multiple times the next day... but then maybe that is how it sneaks up on one. Hypersensitive at least keeps things from sneaking.
I am feeling rather hollow...
I think about my brother everyday. I went for awhile with out. There was a bit of time where when I did think about him I believed he was fine and when I would remember that he had died I was sure it was just a weird dream. It wasn't real and I liked it that way... Until I'd see the plants in the living room and the few little things that I have out, like the little framed picture my other brother gave each of us of him (deceased brother) as a boy on one of our family camping trips in a dry field holding matches (that was (name with held)him) and then it has to be real. Though I still really didn't believe, sometimes certain the plants had come from somewhere else. When I found the picture and poems that were a tribute to him for his funeral that is when I lost it. I put that out. I suppose I should live in the "real world" and remember what really happened. But I don't want to.
It bothers me.
Once a doctor said something about religion/my beliefs keeping me alive (instead of actually killing myself when that was really the only thing that made any sense at all). He said something about others of the similar backgrounds claiming that. But I am bit different (the Dr. has also told me that) and truth be known I believe it is said religious convictions that contribute as much as the detract from the desire to die. Sometimes religion bothers me. I see the need and understand and all that, I even agree with much, but lately I am tired of feeling like we live only to die.
I am tired of everything being about an afterlife. I am tired of feeling like I have to do and be so much more then I am.
I wonder if my brother ever felt any of these things. I wonder how much feelings of, being a failure and/or wanting to be done with it because we are merely living to die anyway and since he knew he was so far from "perfect" then what is the point and he felt done, contributed to his current condition.
I am not done. I am just tired of living to die.
I am mad that my brother shot himself in the head.
I am annoyed that I take drugs everyday just to feel like this and yet not taking them is so much more annoying or at least difficult.
I want to run away to my warm sunny beaches with mountains behind me and forget about everything and everyone...
well I suppose I feel a bit better now pretending that my voice and heart might be heard.
good night sweet Internet world.
I want to run to those mountains and beaches too... I am not sure we are living to die though... I think that our potential to live happily was less before we came here, and so living here we can be happier than we've ever been previously. If that is true (which it is merely an opinion), then the opposite would also be true. Our potential to feel happy is balanced by our potential for misery. Sometimes the happy part seems elusive and the miserable part seems to beckon...
ReplyDeleteWe live to live. Death happens, but the only thing that we can really attempt to understand in life is living. (Attempt being the key)
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ReplyDeletewow, I'm surprised anyone is reading. I am glad for your comments. I do have to clarify though, I am really not miserable. I am not battling the depression that I am more familiar with then I care to admit. Well, maybe a mild form but it is likely due to weather, not getting adequate sleep and the "grieving processes" (I am a bit slow you see). But maybe misery is beckoning. I don't know, don't really care much right now. I just feel hollow and sometimes social anxiety (and such things) sneaks up and nip me in the butt. But not to worry it is only a little nip this time and I am sure my butt will heal just fine.
ReplyDeleteI have issues with my brother right now. It has gotten harder realizing that he won't be around when we are forty, fifty, sixty and all those phases we get to both enjoy and endure in life and it bothers me immensely. Also because more and more he seemed to bridge the ever growing gap between my other brothers.
I believe I'll be back up soon enough, as I am not so low just a bit hollow and as I said a bit mad and sad (as well as a tad annoyed with the whole religion thing). But I get to run away to the red rock this weekend. The sun and a campfire will surely warm my soul.
I check in on your little corner of this sphere all the time. You've been quiet.
ReplyDeleteI keep myself busy; take my meds. I have no other options, or I too will be living to die, and that's not an option.
I seem to like to pretend he's still in GA. Sometimes I remember he isn't, but he doesn't visit anymore, so it's hard to remember, to keep things straight.
I'm hearing the call of the red rocks too, but they are so far away. Tonight I smelled campfire on the wind, and I closed my eyes, and for a moment I was there, over Easter, snuggled in my sleeping bag with all of us sleeping under a big Indian moon and gypsy stars, while the canyon sighed goodnight.
That is why I live. For those moments. I miss them.
Goodnight grasshopper; whisper to the moon for me and I'll send you a song on the wind.
Haven't checked in for a long time, but thought I would tonight. I so relate to your "seeing the plants" comment. I still remember, being only 9 years old, staring at the plants that were all over our house after my dad died. It was so unnatural because my mom never kept plants because they always died! So suddenly having all this greenery around was uncomfortable. Funny, the things that stick in our minds. You're not a slow "greaver". There are no rules to grief. I know scientists and psychologists tell us there are steps, which are probably true, but there are no rights or wrongs for grief. Much of my grief over my dad came to me nearly five years later. I love you Erica-I am glad you are my friend; you are a strong, strong woman.
ReplyDeleteTo sympathize would be to try to understand. To empathize would be to deeply and personally understand. In this case, sympathy has been taken over by empathy. We need words deeper than "I know" or "I understand". I do more than that. I feel what your heart feels. Your hollowness is shared. However, spring always comes! I wrote a song. This is the first verse: It is springtime again. All the cold is disappearing. I see sunshine ahead. It's a new day and its refreshing. I take a breath just to breathe it in. I lift my head as it all sinks in. I am free, I am free, free for now.
ReplyDeleteThanks for writing. I may not read often. But I enjoy your honesty every single time. You honor your brother each day he is on your mind.
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