It feels like what life must’ve felt like for all those who survived in The Walking Dead. A daily wasting away of: purpose, meaning, inspiration. Another day we have made it far enough for me to be able to corral these thoughts that could possibly be the stepping stones to my growing joy in life.
Rick & Carl Grimes fought to stay alive long after Mrs. Grimes died giving birth. They were responsible for each other’s lives in the midst of complete uncertainty. I feel their struggle as the world sinks further into its self-destruct. A world where so many distinctions have been declared, “or you’re cancelled.” You’re forever judged for having hard lines drawn in the sand to get along with what’s required of us all.
To find hope in something…somewhere.
Someone…ANYWHERE!
So, I imbibe to relieve some level of pressure I carry mentally every day. Then, I turn on something inspiring in real time. Professional ice hockey. And, it is very inspiring. It’s why I am enthralled by professional basketball and football. Grown men playing a game I was good at, and receiving life-altering compensation for dedicated work.
It causes me to ask myself again. What could I be a professional doing? Earning life-altering compensation for my dedication to a craft. A craft that could enthrall many to be inspired when the worst seems upon them. It seems the worst is upon me, but I can’t give up. I have been dedicated to the survival of me and my son.
Most days, I feel the weight of just trying to survive another minute. Waiting for that bite that will take me in sweet relief of everlasting sleep. But, oh! What would I miss? Who would miss me like I miss Julie Ann. Like I miss her strength to want to do more than survive. She wanted to enjoy what she had while she was alive to enjoy it. Not just enjoy it, but share in the joy of having access to what we had.
How do I miss having access to what we had? As tumultuous as it was, we adored each other. I wanted to see her healthy on every level possible. Obviously, her physical health was ravaged by cancer, eating everything. I wanted to see her healthy on the spiritual, mental, and emotional levels. We joked about living holistically, but deep down, it is what we were truly working for.
She just ran out of time.
And I feel as though I am doing the bare minimum with each day because of general fatigue. At times, the fatigue is very specific to being a single parent now. But generally, there is a level of fatigue I haven’t felt since I was a teenager. With so much angst towards what the outside world is showing me.
Add the weight of knowing I am responsible for all that is being shown me from the outside. I want to believe in the power to manifest the world in which I want to live. No matter what world I build now, it will always be short one very important member. I used to call her my right ventricle. A piece of my heart has been shut down forever. Maybe that’s why seconds, minutes, and hours feel like forever.
Carrying that weight daily, not knowing where the next disappointment will come from, is so much that most times I just want to sleep until something clicks to make me feel better. Not in a bottle, or from a field, nor in a pill form. A click that says, “You’re finally free from the negative aspects of living post-death of someone I loved deeply.”
Something that clicks, allowing me to sleep through the night without waking up every hour almost from a dream. A nightmare. Confusion to be sure. Not knowing if it’s ever going to be a night’s sleep without the dark reminder that she’s gone forever. Never to return in the form that she was. My bride. Only to return as the memory of my best friend.
It’s not been easy being without part of my support system. Perhaps one of the biggest parts. It’s not been easy trying to find a new purpose that can fill in the empty space that was my wife’s life.
The depression that has descended is so thick at this point. If healing is happening, it’s moving so slowly that I can’t feel it. What do I do with my life and my time? How do I better care for my sons?
When will I be able to get a job and contribute to society in a normal way? Who’s got the answers? Where do I go? How do I get out of this hole that has swallowed my purpose, meaning, and emotional well-being?
What is happening to my mental health? It’s slowly eating away. And it is scary. I’m terrified that the normal that is mine is coming, but will be late to mean anything.
Giving space for my grieving process feels like it’s giving space for the biggest failures of my life. I am struggling to see outside of what I have been reduced to. A man with few goals and a lot of responsibilities that were thrust upon me when she died.
Even this installment feels like a rambling man with no long markers to hit. As of now, I am just waking up to go back to sleep.
To sleep…a deep sleep with no alarm clock to wake me when I should be. The emptiness of depression. The hollowness of deep sorrow.
Like the sun is setting on my life because my life has been totally upended. This is so hard to navigate.