The Give and Take of Sadness

10:39 PM Edit This 15 Comments »
I guess I'm back to posting my melodramatic thoughts. I can't stay away. In an email from a dear reader she stated that, "Whether you write them or not, you're still having your thoughts. I'll listen if you don't want to post it." You know who you are, and I love you dearly, darling. Last week's meltdown is largely over, but it still smarts. I've discovered that the longer I stay sober, the more work I have to do with The Dead Guy; the more I realize how much I missed out on in life during my drinking career and how much more work I have to do to learn to be okay most of the time. I went to the cemetary several times last week and hashed some things out. I don't know why I go there. He's not really there, but it's at least a place to go where I feel safe talking to him and not crazy. Miss M told me last summer that "Nothing's weird at the cemetary. You do what you have to do. Everyone who is here is doing their own thing and they recognize pain." So last Wednesday night, I laid my cheek on his headstone and I talked. And talked and talked. And told him what I was mad about and what I was glad for and what made me so very sad. And I cried. He and I cried alot together. So that at least, seems normal in a way.

More importantly, I came to the conclusion that I really am no longer an emergency. I THINK things are an emergency. I make rapid phone calls - trying to reach SOMEONE just to spread the pain around. Just last night when I was crying, I got Miss M on the phone and I hiccupped into the receiver and she didn't have to say a word. She knows that I just need to share it in order to get through it. And when I'd calmed down enough I told her goodnight and we both went to sleep. Not much passed between us but the sobbing through the phone line and her witness of my tears. But not everyone is willing to put up with that kind of pain. So they either don't pick up the phone or they find a reason to get off. These people aren't bad or flawed in any way, they just don't have the capacity to manage it and be okay themselves.

I'm glad I'm someone that will share your sadness with you today. Because I've been on the other side of it, I'll listen and cry with you if need be. I know how important that is. Just to be there. I don't need someone to "fix" anything today, I just need someone to be present with me in person, on the phone, in my thoughts - whatever. It is how it is. And I've discovered that I give as much of that as I take. And that? That's a reason to rejoice.

15 comments:

buffalodick said...

Whatever grief I've had in my life- most of it was self inflicted.. I don't share a lot of my inner thoughts because I've accepted that fact, and deal with it...Everybody is different, and the mind is a whole universe unto itself...

Bob said...

I come here to listen. I don't comment very often because I don't always have anything to say. I've always regarded this place as yours to get things off of your chest and while (like most guys) I like to find solutions to problems, I do realize that sometimes all you need is to say what is on your mind.

So I thought I'd let you know that I'm always reading, always listening.

BrianAlt said...

But look how much of life is ahead of you. Lots! Lots and lots!

MilesPerHour said...

I hardly have control over anything and I have learned that listening can be all someone really wants or needs from me. So I don't try to always fix things.

GreenCanary said...

I am here, present, Miss Kate, my fellow peapod :-)

melissalion said...

I'll totally cry with you on the phone. I'm really good at that.

morethananelectrician said...

"I know how important that is. Just to be there. I don't need someone to "fix" anything today, I just need someone to be present with me in person, on the phone, in my thoughts - whatever. It is how it is. And I've discovered that I give as much of that as I take. And that? That's a reason to rejoice."

This brought me to tears today...right in the middle of my office. I don't know how to describe why and each of us has our own situations to deal with, but you are right. Sometimes we need someone just to be there. I know I ma not giving, but somehow identifying with you...even if just a little...helps me today.

Daisee579 said...

Like Bob, I sort of figured this was a good place for you to sort things out and let others "hear" your thoughts and be there for you. Other than the occasional turd monkey, all your readers/commenters seem to be very supportive of you, which is amazing to realize you touch people all over this country (and maybe even outside this country).

I don't think it's weird or silly to go to a cemetary. A good friend of my husband's (and a friend of mine, we just weren't as close as they were) passed away before we got married. I hit a really emotional place afterwards. I went to his grave. I talked to him. I told him what was going on. He was a great listener in real life. So I have to assume he is still. I felt an enormous sense of relief and comfort when I left. I have to think that was him hugging me and telling me it was going to be okay.

Dead Guy does that for you in his own way too - at least I have to think that.

Jeff D'Antonio said...

Grief and sadness come in waves. I don't know how long it has been since he died, but there is no time limit on grief. There will always be days when you miss him so much it hurts. I mean physically hurts. I know you've had many days like that, and I know you will have many more. But the days in between are yours to live.

Going to the cemetery can be a cathartic experience, or it can be a painful experience - it depends on what you get out of it. Even though he's not really there, that is the place where you can tell him anything, ask whatever questions are on your mind, and demand answers - you won't get any answers, but eventually you will ask all the right questions. And asking the right questions is how we find the answers within ourselves.

Been there. Keep writing, Kate. We'll listen.

Sparkling Red said...

Intimacy: to me it's the meaning of life. Or at least, my reason for living. What else is there, really?

Sweetly Single said...

i am always here love. hugs at the ready

however virtual they may be LOL

Captain Crab said...

Looks like it's time for the Captain to head to north again.

LiLu said...

I know exactly what you mean. Sometimes it's not about saying anything; it's just about knowing that they're there, that they care... that they don't judge you.

xoxo

G said...

I am glad to see you back. Grief, like love, never completely disappears and perhaps that is good. The former does ease with the passage of time and connection with others who care about you. My email address is in my profile if you ever feel a need to let go of a gloomy thought. I give good ear:)

blakspring said...

everyone left such eloquent comments. all i can add is *hugs*