I've not written much this month. Part of that is, honestly, that January is a big black bucket of suck. Part of it is that I write a lot from feelings: despair, sadness, confusion, anger, hope, love. I haven't felt much of anything this month. I've felt simply empty.
I was in a group earlier this week where the topic of the new year came up. Someone finally put into words the weird funk that I've had a hard time identifying so far this year.
She said "I can't talk of my dad with the words 'last year' anymore."
Time and space became so bizarre after Ryan died. I remember all of last year referring to how long ago something was said or done with Ryan as "2 months ago" or "maybe 6 months?"When I said 2 months ago, even though it was May, I meant November. It was as if time stopped in January and everything about Time I couldn't help but relate to then. It really was that Life stopped.
It wasn't a conscious thing. Honestly it made me feel crazy.
I couldn't put into words that the New Year brought this new experience.
She was right.
I can't say "last year" any longer.
I can't say "last November when we..."
I can't say "last Summer..."
I have to now say "in 2014" (< I had to think about that one...ugh, grief brain, what year is it?) for even the most immediate recollections of Ryan.
It feels so stale. So impersonal. So detached. So long ago.
This sucks. At least I have words for it now.
No comments:
Post a Comment