Today I was supposed to go to my best friend’s funeral. I went to bed early so I would get enough sleep, I made sure to have plenty of time to eat, shower, get dressed…
But last night I didn’t get enough sleep… I woke up every hour, all night long, struggling to breathe and get my heart rate to slow. I ate, but was nauseous and I have so many canker sores in my mouth from stress that it’s torture to eat. I showered, but my hands were shaking and I kept dropping things. I got dressed and redressed and redressed and redressed.
Finally, it was time to go but I couldn’t leave the house. I stood in the tiny entranceway, my hand on the front door, for over twenty minutes (while the dog and cat both fretted over why I was just standing there). I thought “I have to go.”
I bit the bullet and stepped outside, only to go two blocks and turn back. I couldn’t do it. Drenched in sweat, fighting to take a breath, shaking like a leaf, I curled up on my bed until I was calm.
Thing is, he would have completely understood.
He was actually one of the only people in this entire world who’s really known just how tightly wound I am at all times. He called me the most emotionally repressed person he’d ever met. I’m not anymore, and that’s the issue at hand. You can’t shove all your emotions back into the closet after you’ve decided to let them all out… or at least I can’t. I won’t, actually. Can’t do that to myself again. Even if it means missing my best friend’s funeral.
I’ve taken few steps back towards being a mess… back to the dark days of this year and last, spent in bed, crying, struggling to overcome what feels insurmountable.
But it’s important to grieve. It’s important to feel. I lost the strongest pillar in my support network and I miss him and I am terribly sad for his family and friends. I’m angry that he died so young and so fine while so many bastards are still going strong. I’m reeling from the suddenness of his death. I’m turning around in circles trying to understand the point of life if all we do is die. I’m sitting here surrounded by so many things – books, music, movies that are all tied up in memories of him. I’m exhausted and I’m fragile.
But I’ll be ok. I will.