Saturday, December 15, 2012

Breath

John's cousin Paige came over today and made me eat some soup, and brought me some other stuff.  She was here about 3 hours, which is 3 less hours of me laying in bed, staring at the ceiling fan going round.

She listened to me tell the story that she already knew, and held me when I cried.  She's had more than her share of loss in recent years and told me about her 2 years in grief counseling.  It goes without saying that it doesn't make me feel 'better', but talking to someone is much better than the ceiling fan.

That's why I call my sister often.  It's not so much the words, but knowing somebody cares about me and doesn't want to see me just melt into the oblivion of sadness permanently.  I do very much worry that I will become that.  I don't have much.. any really.. friends here.  I met John soon after moving to Dallas and my friends were the friends that John already had. Only family contacts me.

Paige suggested that we take the dogs for a walk.  We went the short route through the park.  When we got back, she asked me if that helped.  That's just not the right word.  It distracts from the bottomless pain that I'm feeling over the loss of John, but as she said.. that's something.

Then she asked me for a list of the things I need to do and wrote them down for me.

One of John's former assistants came by so I could list the rental house John gave me a while back.  I signed all the papers and it's being priced for a quick sale.  With some fixing being done, it could sell for 15k more, but I don't care.

To be honest, John's estate is a mess.  It owes more than it has.  John kept many secrets from me, and for that I blame myself.  People tell me not to, but I know that had I been more compassionate and insistent with him, I could have got him to trust me completely and maybe everything would have turned out differently.  I know now that living without John is not living.   It's just existing.  I would have done anything to help him avoid his passing.  It might have been inevitable anyway, but I certainly could have done much more to mitigate the risks.

My stomach is upset.. like I need to throw up, but I can't.

I'm going to go watch the ceiling fan spin for a while.

2 comments:

kris said...

I know it's not the same, but when my dad died, a friend suggested I sign up (on the horrible NHS!) for grief counselling. It must have been the day after he died that I got walked to the doctor's office to sign up.

It was a good thing that I signed up as soon as I did because the lady I needed to see had a waiting list.

It was probably not the easiest thing I've ever done, but I am glad I did it.

Tom said...

The city where I live now has a counselling service, and I left a message for them.. but my employer also coordinates with a service. I'm kinda waiting on that so I can see somebody near my home in Frisco.

I'm obviously having a difficult time, to say the least, and I need every bit of help I can get.