She lives in the place in the side of our lives where nothing is ever put straight

[judecorp]

I think that maybe I don't know how to grieve properly or something. Oh sure, I know there's no right way or whatever but I got to thinking about when A. and I broke up and it was much the same thing. I sat around and felt like I should be more upset, more unable to cope, something. Anything.

When A. and I broke up, I was mostly okay all the time and then would occasionally get totally pissed off at him. And that was it. From Acceptance to Anger to Acceptance and back again.

I went into work for a little bit today to drop off some things (like my time sheet) and make some phone calls without my cell phone. Several of my coworkers stopped by my office to make sure I was okay (which was nice) and they all commented on how surprised they are at how well I'm doing. It just makes me wonder when people say that, you know? *shrug* I mean, yes, it's sad. Yes, it's terrible. Yes, it's hard for my family and we will miss him horribly and we miss him already. Yes, I'm concerned about his affairs, and his debts, and his belongings. I'm concerned about the effects on my brother. But how can I be so overcome with grief on this beautiful day, with beautiful sun and beautiful sky and fresh sea air in my lungs? In the dark, late at night, that's a different story, I suppose. But the joy of public life and diving into work is the Gods-given ability to compartmentalize, right?

I know there's plenty of time for me to be beside myself with grief, and I know that I should take these days as a blessing instead of wondering what is wrong with me. But I can't help it, I wonder. What is wrong with me?

I'm not a heartless person. I know I have a huge heart, a lot of love, a lot of compassion. Where is it? Is it still in there somewhere and I just don't know it? Or does it just choose not to manifest itself in tears?

Comments

[jost.livejournal.com]

When my father died, I coped initially by going into manager mode. I knew my Mother would be falling apart. I knew that since Dad was always the planner that I would have to step up and do that. It served two main purposes; it kept my Mother from having to handle anything and it kept me from losing it. It wasn't for about 6-10 months after that I finally actually faced it. It wasn't pretty then.

Don't allow the fact that you're not falling apart make you think you're not grieving. You're just doing so on your own time.

If you need to talk, just have somebody listen, just have somebody repeat "Lumpy!" to you 500 times, etc; I'm here 24x7.

[judecorp.livejournal.com]

I'm sure I'm definitely keeping some things in check by being the Counselor of the bunch, by reassuring everyone else that they're okay and such. Rick has been handed a lot of the Manager tasks (by nature of his being the first-born and a boy and all of that good stuff) and I really feel terrible that he keeps being given a laundry-list of things to do... I do hope that he knows he can delegate anything he wants to me and also that he doesn't have to if doing these things is going to help him.

I'm sure that things will come up at holidays and milestones and the like. I can't imagine going through my life and NOT thinking, "I wish Dad were here to see this," or whatever... but yeah, I think it's definitely possible that once everything is once and for all Over and Done With, when there are no more picayune tasks to take care of, there could be a different picture of grief.

And I'm okay with that, too.