Personal Journal

Untitled.

Everybody says "call me if you just want to talk."
It's 11 p.m. MST and I want to talk - but I don't know to whom.
Not the grief counselor on call. Too analytical.
Not my brother - he didn't know Jean.
My mother - ha! Strange bitch. Did I mention her insensitivity the other day telling me that before I leave for NJ I should get all Jean's clothes packed up? Can you believe that?
I will have all of her shit out of her house when she dies, though. I don't think that'll cause me any turmoil.
Anyhow - people who've been on this side of the loss - the side where you personally suffered the loss - have warned me that in a week or two, everybody who has pledged support to me will be gone. I suppose that's not too far from the truth. There will be one or two who are there for me, but human nature is what it is. Most people will lose touch with their sympathies because their ordinary lives are understandably more pressing than the abstraction they perceive of what I'm going through.

Tonight I'm lonely and depressed. But not so depressed that I can cry. So I'm working on miniatures, and for some reason, checking e-mail more than I have a right to reasonably expect something. I don't get many e-mails actually (I don't write many people, in fact).

I think the loneliness is the first symptom of the loss. Where I yesterday could say to people that it felt like Jean was in another hospital visit, today there's a feeling of abandonment. She's not at the hospital. I drove by there today, and I didn't have to go inside for a change.

I actually had a 2-hour nap today - but that means for the next several days my sleep schedule will likely be really screwed up. Tonight, at least. So I'm up and it's too late to call anyone except a couple people I don't really think would be a comfort to call.

I don't know what it is I expect from people. I'm starting to think that I have expectations that are too high. And that leads to disappointment, and disappointment in people is something I don't bear well. So my inclination is to go to the other extreme and to isolate myself.

By the time I get back from New Jersey, the world will have moved on from my loss. And I will have just begun to appreciate it.