(Please forgive the lack of links; I'm writing from my b.berry.)
Thank you all for your comments from my last post. They really do help. I'm feeling a lot better, if a little shaken.
As Tash and others suggested, I think I hit a bump in this pot-holed road of grief. God, does it suck. I knew I had been doing better, overall, but that I kept getting hit by twinges, and unexpected triggers of moments of sadness. I guess I mistook them for the bigger bumps in the road.
A few months after my mom died, I participated in a support group held at one of the area hospice offices. It was a decent group, run by a couple of social workers. One of the things I remember best was the concept of the STUG: a (seemingly) spontaneous, temporary upsurge in grief. These would happen forever, though less and less frequently, as we grieved and moved farther away from the loss.
I suppose I could say that this may be evidence of my progress, as -- even with all the stuff going on in my life right now -- I have not felt so bad in some time. Longer than I thought.
It was horrifying to go back to those feelings. The deep grief, the severe depression.
It was not spontaneous, though. Several bloggers had anniversaries reecently, or just shared their own feelings of continued grief, the process of moving on. Some wrote about triggers. (Tash, I had actually read the post you mentioned in my comments. I found myself affected more than I would have thought.)
So, all of that; the arrival of my niece and my visit to meet her, family stuff; my TAC and all that it implies/brings with it; school starting; memories of August 2007, and of the very long road since August 2008; the prospect of starting all that again. What else? You name it.
One huge trigger. Or a bunch of small, but potent ones.
A few weeks ago, C and I talked about the possibility of spending Christmas at his folks. We both thought we should make a point to try. Maybe a half an hour later, we were wastching a rerun of Bo.nes, the one where they are all stuck in the lab over Christmas because they might have been exposed to a communicable disease. At one point, all the characters' families/loved ones come to see them (through a glass, of course) and playing over the montage is some song about having a merry Christmas or being home for Christmas. You get the point. I started to cry. I asked C to turn the channel, I was so upset. Out of nowhere. Wasn't I just saying I was okay with Christmas? STUG, said C.
Yeah. So. Not as aware as I'd like to be.
Once I made it out of the initial grief over losing my mom, it was hard for me to really let go and cry. Not just tears, but *really* cry. Too hard to go to that place again. I was reminded of that in the last few days. Gof, does that hurt.
So, I think you all are right, and that this is a part of grieving. Another step in the process. I just need to go through it. No way out but through.
In those dark moments, it's hard to remember that. The STUGs. The triggers. It's hard to remember in the good moments, too.
Progress is not linear. Or maybe it is, and these dark, hard times are just more dark, hard times to endure in the process. No such thing as smooth sailing.
I'm sorry that you are here, but I'm so glad that I have you to light a match, lend a shoulder or a strong arm to lean on. I hope I can do the same for you.