But those things could be easily dropped, put away for a while, forgotten.
Emotions are harder.
As a species we have emotions that rule us, that allow us to love, to hate, to find joy and sorrow. And while the firsts on the list can overwhelm and overcome us... the hardest of all, and the most self destructive is sorrow. Grief.
Grief is a terrible, terrible monster that looms over you and it sucks. I don't necessarily mean that it's bad/it sucks. I mean it literally sucks. It sucks the life out of you. Tears you down, and allows you to tear others down with you. I have watched grief begin to suck the life out of my family when my grandpa passed back in July. Hell, it sucked the life out of me. It wasn't until maybe two weeks after his passing that I was able to wake up and say "He wouldn't want me like this." And begin to pick up the pieces and move forward. Not on... just forward.
Most recently, I'm watching grief suck the life out of a man I love more than life itself. It's weighing so heavily on him that the tangible energy that was in the house had doubled, and is pressing down on all of us. I will be saging tonight, but I'm not sure how much it can do.
I've offered to be there to listen, to let him just talk to me, tell me what I can do to help him.
Nothing helps. Nothing works, he can't talk to me. Because "You don't understand what goes on in my head. It would terrify you."
|Credit to Toby Allen - zestydoesthings.tumblr.com --- amazing artwork!|
Because no matter what horrific, deplorable imagery his OCD brain could conjure up, NOTHING could terrify me from him. Nothing could scare me away from him, because despite the images that his twisted brain can come up with, I know the man ruling his body. But no matter how many times I assure him that he couldn't be further from the truth, he falls back on the hardest thing for me to accept.
"You don't understand, you couldn't."
I can't help him. Grief is sucking his soul from him, and there is absolutely nothing I can do to stop it. The man I love is there.... he says he loves me, he hugs and kisses me, he goes to work. But it feels as if he's merely pulling strings to appear normal... that he says the words and does the actions so I don't worry. But I can feel his grief, his fury. And it doesn't matter how badly I WANT to help him, if he doesn't accept my hand, stretching out for him, desperately reaching out to pull him from the dark abyss that's threatening to encompass him and steal him from me... If he doesn't reach back... there's nothing I can do.
That is the most horrible feeling I've ever had. Being unable to help someone I love. To feel like I can't be trusted by someone whom I love so deeply.
But it doesn't even stop there.
One of my best friends, whom I've known for a decade is dealing with some serious shit. I tell him, you can talk to me. I'm here. I"m here for you.... But even he cannot trust me entirely to talk to. to rant to, to express what makes him turn to his addiction...
All because.... "You don't understand."
And dammit, I'm trying! I'm trying so hard to understand, I WANT to understand. But maybe they're right. Maybe I can't,
At least one of them does appreciate that I want to.
I'll concentrate on fighting my own demons while they fight theirs. and if they reach out for help, all I can do is be there and show them, I'm a woman of my word. I will sit and listen and do what I can to help them. But only when they ask for it.
Which only triggers this little guy to start his whisperings...
|Once again, credit to Toby Allen|
And that little monster invites this friend along for the ride...
Making for a difficult and tear filled counselling session with my therapist this morning. Gotta keep moving on though... There's a very long to do list and it won't get done if I'm sitting here and not going back out into the windy cold.