6:06 pm
I’ve been staring into the distance lately, unsure of what will make me feel better. My “grief”–in quotes because, I guess I never really fully understood that grief can entail a bunch of different feelings, not just sadness or an ache for what once was–seems to come and go; today, it really came, and I was kind of surprised by how it’s tired me out. Hence, just staring into the distance. (A really pretty distance, too, with the “witching hour” sunset colors covering the sky in pastels.)
I took a long walk today, and well, honestly, I reached a point along the way when my slight crying turned to weeping. It was a much-needed processing of my feelings for my sweet, precious friend (our dog) having passed almost three weeks ago this coming Wednesday. It did not help–or, did it?–that I walked where I used to take the dogs, when we both were younger. I’ve finally accepted that my brand of grieving entails anger and a feeling of “what’s the point” before it dissolves into sadness. And, I understand now that in losing someone–including a pet, since they are someone to me–the sadness and nostalgia that comes along with the loss is as much about you getting older and confronting your mortality as it is about that person or pet having gotten older and died.
(Speaking of grief, there is a lot of loss going around these days, and uncertainty; that doesn’t help either, for sure.)
I feel undeniably older these days, and even before our dog died, I couldn’t help but fixate on how I used to be, how we used to be, what we used to do, what we used to like to do. Of course, this has been made worse by the fact that we literally moved home again when we come back last November. I mean, we live in the same house as we did eight years ago, and we walk the same roads, so to speak, but we are definitely different. And that is jarring. I’m grateful that we’ve come a long way, and generally, I like how we’ve evolved! Yet, it all feels gone, sometimes.
I feel mentally strong enough to handle it, though. And, by that, I mean, let the episodes of grief and feeling brain-dead simply wash over me and then…NOT drink and actually move on from the pain. I don’t dwell, like I used to; I don’t drink, like I used to–both of which just reinforced the other, and allowed me to stay stuck in the moment. It has taken over eight years to get to this point, though; and, it’s been a daily struggle to become able to bounce back more easily from bouts of grief, nostalgia, and other emotional pain.
Deep thoughts on the road today, is all. Hopefully, I’ll be able to sleep this off and wake up, reset, tomorrow morning. It’s a new week–all will be well, I have to remind myself. All will be well…
(and, because my coping mechanisms aren’t that awesome, I spent most of last night making a homemade white cake AND homemade ice cream custard; I mean, if one takes five egg whites and the other needs four yolks…what are ya supposed to do?)
Drunky Drunk Girl 
Hug
Grief is not easy or short.
White cake sounds excellent, and it gives you something to do.
Last year, when I was mourning my marriage, I tried to wind ways to get past the grief.
Eventually I realized I needed to live with it for a while.
You are so right. It is heavy and full of mortality.
Thinking of you
Anne
You sound like you’re handling this as well as anyone could – allowing yourself to go through the stages of grief – denial, anger, sadness then finally acceptance. I think when we try to avoid the sadness by drinking or other means then we can get stuck in the angry part. I really feel for you – our pets are are family members and loved ones as much as any human and their loss is painful – I think making cake and custard is an awesome coping mechanism but I love cake! Sending hugs 💞💞
I don’t have any form of grief right now but I’m sad for the ways things USED to be. People change for no apparent reason, certain places and things just not exciting me anymore, sad with a feeling of loss when I’m not really sure of what I’ve “lost”. Regardless, I’m glad I won’t be handling this depression or whatever it is with beer. I guess we all just have to muddle through until we get it right and find happiness around whichever corner we can. It will come.
I’m sending you lots of hugs. Losing a pet is not easy and it sounds like you honored your feelings and the loss in such a healthy way. I love your mantra, “all will be well.”
(Now I want cake 😊 )
as always, your posts give me insight. I still enjoy your thoughtful and raw feelings as so many pontificate and/or can be grandiose ( ps i generally delete those blogs if i see it often). Its heartening to know we all have many issues outside of alcohol that can relate or conflict with our feelings about drinking, and that we aren’t alone, even if every issue isn’t the same. i hope you never give up this blog..its a staple in my own journey…hugs!