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Saturday, August 31, 2013

Free Bird...

Today is 8-31-13 and it was April 13th that I heard the news that Eric was gone. April, May, June, July, August it has been 5 months almost 6 now and I really don't know if things are any better.

I know I have said this before at least I think that I have. It isn't that I want to be depressed  and replay this thing over and over. Because I don't and there are moments when everything seems fine and honestly I have tricked myself into feeling fine and then I am driving my van home or as Eric always referred to it on Instagram "The Van" and I start thinking "what and why and how" and "WHY DON'T I JUST DRIVE MY VAN RIGHT OFF THE FUCKING ROAD BECAUSE WOULDN'T THAT BE A WHOLE LOT FUCKING SIMPLER THEM HAVING TO ALWAYS PROCESS THIS SHIT OVER AND OVER AGAIN." 

Now let me be clear before anybody freaks out. I am not going to be driving The Van off of the road. But if I do not acknowledge that these thoughts surface within me from time to time I find that I am far worse off. I can't pretend that I am not feeling these things and that everything is hunky dory and that I am feeling just fine. Because I am not and there really is no point in me lying about it. If my honestly bothers you then so be it and you have a couple of choices, One is to nod and smile and thank me for my authenticity the other is well stated best in this gif

Because while it may make you uncomfortable this is the truth and the reality of someone left behind and  I am positive that I am not the only one feeling this way. So either get your shit together and do everything you can to help that person not feel totally and completely  alone or jog the fuck on. Don't half ass it. There is no halfway with this. It is that important and those left behind need you. If you are unable to deal with the intensity of that then you really are not a friend even if you thought you were. What you thought was friendship all this time was not. It was some comfortable thing with no intimacy and no accountability and no truth. You were an acquaintance and when shit got real you couldn't handle it. Well too bad for you. But no one likes or wants to be left behind. No one wants to be the survivor that has to pick up the pieces of day to day life and trudge on like nothing has happened. Like your entire world wasn't blown totally up. You not being able to handle that is not the fault of the survivor. It is your fault for not being a good person. And fuck you if this upsets you. It should upset you. You are a bad person and should be ashamed of yourself.

I have to believe that healing will come. Otherwise, what is the point. But there are times when it seems so, so hard and I begin to wonder when, when will it come? I suppose that I should seek therapy or counseling, I have been told that I should go to group therapy and I always feel like yes I should. But when it comes down to actually making that call I think, "Ahh I am okay, I can squeeze these feelings off and write about them when they get to strong to handle."  I do not know why I am so resistant to this. I honestly don't. The idea of me being resistant to it makes no sense to me. I do not fear seeing a therapist and I do not fear being psycho-analyzed yet I can't seem to take that next step and I do not know why.

Thanks for listening folks I am going to go make myself a drink.

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