tricksters_queen: Art by Amy Brown, who is one of my favorite artists (blue fairy)
That's what I titled my 2nd grief cd. Alas, that I stole the "Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat" part straight off of a song by the same title, which is, at least, on the cd.

I don't think I posted about the first grief cd I made for myself, but it has songs on it like Christina Aguilera's "Hurt", Bon Jovi's "Everybody's Broken", and "Believe" by The Bravery. It's depressing.

My newer cd is depressing in several ways, too, don't get me wrong...but it has a lot more faith-based music on it, which is comforting. Not to mention Cher singing "You Haven't Seen The Last Of Me", which is downright tenacious. It's also got Dido's "See The Sun", and The Beatles' "Let It Be", All-American Rejects' "Move Along", "I Dare You To Move" by Switchfoot, "All Of This" by Erin O'Donnell, Lifehouse's "Broken" and "Breathe", dc Talk's "Between You And Me", "Love, Loss, Hope, Repeat" by Carbon Leaf, and "He Lives In You" from Return To Pride Rock.

I am not now, nor do I really think I have ever been, religious. That's not the same thing - in my estimation, at least - as not being spiritual, or not having faith. I don't really care if I have a faith-based community surrounding me, which is just as well, seeing as I'd be hard pressed to find one that thinks like I do, anyway. The sense of being connected to something bigger, to everything around me, actually, is...I don't know...obvious, to me?

That doesn't mean I don't believe in Evolution, mind you. In my mind, science and faith don't fight each other, they are part of the same system. "God spoke" = "The Big Bang", I guess you could say. We'll call that analogy a work-in-progress, as is my life. I live, I learn, I make changes to the way I view things and what I believe in.

When I was working out the plans for my wedding, my mom was originally upset that I wanted to get married outside. She asked, was I sure I didn't want to get married in a church? She had always felt a stronger connection to God when she was in a church. I replied, quite straight-forward, that it was great that church worked for her, but I had always - all my life - felt a much stronger connection to God when I was outside, in the world God created. That had been enough to put an end to something that could have been a stupid argument.

Buildings are stone, wrought from the Earth, but in comparison to the grass, and trees, and flora, they are little more than lifeless. A building is, I suppose, what you make of it. Christianity has made the church to be the house of God; I think God's house is anywhere and everywhere. It's wherever you need it to be if you need to talk.

I used to talk to God with greater frequency. I'd monologue, and just get everything off my chest. I don't exactly do much of that anymore. As I've gotten older, I've kind of come to the conclusion that God likely has more important things to take care of than whatever my petty problems are. I'm aware that in comparison to what is going on in the world, my problems are small. I can handle them...even if I wish I didn't have to. It's part of growing up, of being an adult (and Highones, how I hate it). That doesn't mean I never talk. That doesn't mean I don't think I'd be listened to, if I did so more often. I just feel that if it's a burden I can deal with on my own, then there's little need to ask anyone else to interfere, deities included.

I like going to Grief Group. I like having other people that I can talk to, listen to, use as a sounding board for my grief. There are days when it's hard not to let it swallow me whole. It's difficult, and it's dark, and it frelling hurts - just to breathe - and I hate it. I find myself more irritated with customers more easily, and I have to work more to hide it than I used to. Sometimes smiling is a real stretch. I feel more cut-off and disconnected, like I'm somewhere that's hard for others to reach. It's exhausting. My body hurts, my mind races, or shuts down, I'm tired more often than not, and in a way that sleeping doesn't help with, my muscles get sore enough that I don't want to move. Gloomy days with grey skies are the worst, because convincing myself to move in the morning is problematic enough without the lack of light.

Grieving is a freaking full-time job that pays nothing and the benefits are shit - at least in the short-term. It takes up too much time, and energy, and concentration...and I don't like knowing that I'll never be the person I was before ever again when it's "done". Grief is not something that a person gets over. It is something that a person works through. It is a lifelong process. And doesn't that just suck.

I'm naturally cheerful, optimistic, I look at what's good rather than what's bad, and that hasn't exactly changed. I've never really known how to be "not happy", so I'm not very good at it. It's always been easier - to me, at least - to wear a smile and be in a good mood. It's probably what's kept me young. I'm looking forward to when the wounds are healed enough to enjoy more light-hearted days than heavy-hearted ones...but right now, I'm not sure if the majority of my "good" days are a bit more of me pretending I'm okay, or ignoring what's wrong than they are genuinely "good". After all, I work at a full-time job, and I can't be "not okay" at work all day, every day. Falling apart on the job is not usually considered acceptable.

I think I might need a little more time to myself. Perhaps closeting myself away in my bedroom would not be such a bad idea, after all. It's been 8 months. So close to a year. I don't even know where the time went. What did I do in that time? How much have I actually healed? Where have I been? Am I any better? Some days, yes, some days, no. The fluctuation really gets to me, especially if I've had a run of better days, and then I get smacked with a really bad one. The holidays were hard. Not the days themselves, actually, but the days after. Apparently, feeling guilty for having a good time after having lost a loved one is a fairly normal thing people go through. I have yet to have felt guilt over such a thing. I just have days where the loss is more obvious and I miss my mom more, and days were the loss is less (and I still miss my mom).

I miss my mom.
tricksters_queen: Beautiful picture, which looks very much like it's title "darkest night", makes me think of dark dreams. (darkest night)
We're finally getting a cold snap. It's coming at a bloody dreadful time - tomorrow morning, way too early, we get to go to a graveyard. And it's supposed to be frelling freezing. A little below, actually, at the time we're going to be there. I despise the cold.
tricksters_queen: Waxing poetic about love and pain - of which I have much of the former and little of the latter.  ::shrugs:: (save me)
"God rest ye, merry gentlemen, let nothing you dismay! Remember Christ our savior was born on Christmas day to save us all from satan's power when we were gone astray...Oh, tidings of comfort and joy - comfort and joy! Oh, tidings of comfort and joy!"

"It's a long way home, and all I see is darkness - an angel in a dark dress - don't you leave me here. It's a long way home, and all I see is darkness - I'm in a sea of darkness, so don't you leave me here!"

I'm swinging back and forth between being crazy-happy about the holidays and such, and crashing down wondering what the f**k I'm going to do with myself. I've been out Christmas shopping, and it's all done (except for the dog and some candy for stockings). I have yet to manage to finish trimming the tree. I mean, there are ornaments on it, but not all of them are up yet. I also haven't actually wrapped any of the presents I've purchased. It's like "Yay, Christmas! I have presents for people!", but the idea of wrapping those presents is...exhausting? I don't know. I am so glad that I have tomorrow off, and that I get a day off next week, too. My plan is to wrap stuff. I would very much like to not fall apart when I do so.

I miss my mom.
tricksters_queen: Waxing poetic about love and pain - of which I have much of the former and little of the latter.  ::shrugs:: (save me)
I used to remember my dreams quite vividly. In my highschool years, most especially during the Summer months when I had little better to do, I kept a dream journal and when I woke up I would write everything down that I could remember. Some of the dreams were off the wall, a lot of them featured Puck (big surprise), and some were my life - as in, actually my life.

I stopped writing down my dreams when I found myself without enough time to worry about it in the mornings. I proceeded to stop remembering my dreams so vividly. This is hardly surprising, it's what happens, for the most part. From time to time I wake up with a vivid feeling from my dreams, but I often do not recall anything about the dream or why I feel that way (sometimes very happy, other times like I'm about to fall apart).

Recently, I have been dreaming pretty actively. This week alone I have actually recalled bits and pieces of my dreams. Mostly, that my mother has been featured in them. She always looks the way she did before she got sick, and even in my dreams, when I look at her, I'm aware that I must be dreaming because I see her and my dream-self thinks she's gone. It doesn't stop me from being happy to see her. I have...mixed feelings about it when I wake up. It's not quite like the shock of waking up to feel the loss all over again because, as I said, even in the dream I'm aware that she's passed on...but though it's comforting to think that she's still with me, it's...a little depressing, too. I guess it does kind of force me to deal with the concept of her loss. I'm not sure I care for that too much, as I don't really think I've been pushing it away to begin with.

In any event, in the dream I can recall with the most clarity, she's come early to a concert that I'm in at school (because in the dream I am back in highschool again) to drop me off, and she's just sticking around and getting a seat to stay and watch. Mom and dad were always there to see me in whatever I was doing - concerts, plays, competitions. I think it's her way of saying she's still there for me, still supports me in what I want to do.

The other thing about this dream is (Highones help me), Glee club. ::laughter:: I like the show Glee, mostly because I know for a fact that had I been aware of a Glee club when I was in highschool, I totally would have been there. Seriously, anything that gave me more of a reason to be on a stage. Which, I think, is my subconscious trying to tell me that I really miss being on a stage, that I miss performing and being in front of a crowd. That I miss music. I'm...thinking about it. I'm not quite sure what I want to do at the moment, but I'm sure I'll figure it out.
tricksters_queen: Waxing poetic about love and pain - of which I have much of the former and little of the latter.  ::shrugs:: (save me)
Yesterday was my mom's birthday. I was supposed to go to work, and wound up taking a sick/personal day because I fell apart instead.

I have had a reasonably crappy couple of weeks. It's not just dealing with my mother's death - which apparently happens in cycles - but also the loss of my absolute favorite place to hang out (Borders isn't closed yet, but I sure can't hang out there anymore without the cafe or any seating of any sort), worry about my friends (because I obviously know a lot of people who work there), and the fact that right now at work I only have one manager. So happens it's the manager I don't get along with as well as the others.

Unsurprisingly, I'm not dealing with stress as well as I usually do. It's disconcerting. And apparently, mom's birthday just...blew up my self control for holding together. ::sigh:: I'm feeling better today, though.

Got books unpacked - now I just need to put them in some semblance of order. Dad and I went to see Smurfs today. ::laughter:: I don't know if I'd suggest anyone go see it, as it really is for kids, but it's got NPH and it was cute, and silly, and it made me laugh. Laughing, especially lately, is a really, really good thing.

Looking forward to dinner tonight. I think I'm hungry... ::laughter:: I think I'm going to work on writing for a little bit while I'm waiting.
tricksters_queen: Waxing poetic about love and pain - of which I have much of the former and little of the latter.  ::shrugs:: (save me)
Solitude is where it tends to hit me really hard...
I keep myself in company, I'm keeping up my guard.
I turn my back and hide from what is standing right behind...

So twist one more although I know you'l break me
Just be sure that I'm still in the game
As long as I forever keep on twisting
Evade the pain...

I keep posting song lyrics, but it's not really music that I'm hearing in my head. I think I've figured out how I'm dealing with my grief...and I think I should probably look into some grief counseling after all. When I get frustrated or stressed, I just start screaming in my head. I suspect that may not be healthy, but admittedly, it does save my throat and voice the trouble of screaming out loud.

The small things are just more difficult for me to deal with: annoying customers, packing up the apartment, stupid things that normally wouldn't be bothering me. They get to me, and I just start mentally screaming. It's long, and loud, and honestly, keeping up with all the things I'm supposed to do is just...exhausting. I find myself tired after even a short or easy day of working. Packing has become so frustrating that I have taken to throwing things out just so I don't need to pack them after only working on things for about an hour. That's not entirely bad, actually - I have accumulated an awful lot of junk in the past four years. Throwing things away makes me feel better, weirdly.

Anyway, that's my (not terribly hyper-happy) post for today. I'm sure things will get better - once we're moved, I suspect a lot of my stress will be relieved. Maybe I'll stop screaming so much...


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August 2012

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