Answers and Questions ...

 

I feel like maybe there's a part of me in here that's starting to allow emotions again. NOT for what's actually happening in my world, but at least I know that things can evoke empathy, or relating, rather than just a slow-blinking, monotone stare. 

I watched this: 

So much I could completely agree with in this. I can't remember the words now, but something that Henry (the younger one) said made me tear up. Not cry, but it was just like DAMN ... 

Then, we watched probably the finest episode in the entire series of Your Friends and Neighbors, all about the funeral and grieving and the afterwards of such a day. The mother, who lost her husband, was uber-critical and controlling of everything - leaving her adult kids in the dust of her decisions. Familiar territory, very ... But at the end, when all the melee of the day was over, you see her alone on top of her (their) bed, alone, sobbing. 

My parents (neither of them) would ever allow their emotions to be seen by anyone, especially not us kids. So, it just made me understand a bit more, and also see how I myself am, a lot of the time. 

This song entered my universe a few months before my dad passed: 

So much of the video and lyrics combined was spot on. We actually listened to it on the way to the hospital that night, over an hour away, and it all just kind of made a lot of sense. 

No such song ever showed up in my world to represent my mom. 

I think the saddest part, back to the Your Friends and Neighbors ep, though, was this song: 

Probably the saddest song I've ever heard, especially when you know he wrote it when he was dying. 

It's so hard to feel the sad things anymore. Even when Nettie left, I couldn't let myself FEEL it. I was there, I was making space for my husband to have his moments, but I just couldn't let myself emote. I just look at her pictures every day. They will always be in my Google memories, so the digital world won't let me forget. 

I think music is the only time I can FEEL things. 

Last year, when Ozzy passed, that was crushing. Not even because I loved his music all THAT much, but he was just a relatable person. 

Then you listen to Mama, I'm Coming Home, or See You on the Other Side, and it just brings chills. 

I think I saw a lot of our marriage in Ozzy and Sharon. 

I have no idea why this even matters. Maybe it just explains why I stay with my husband and can't imagine life with anyone else. I am not a victim. I'm not here unwillingly. I have given as good as I've gotten. I am not brainwashed into believing that everything is my fault, and I don't think everything is his fault, either. I just know I reached a boiling point this past year, what with the move, and all the changes. 

But like all things, it takes time to smooth out all the edges and get into a flow, and I think we're getting there. Not all the way there yet, but it's vastly improved since last year. 

However, NOW, I have to work on ME. 

I am tired of everything I am, and everything I never accomplished. I'm tired. 

When he went to the game in Phoenix this week, I learned that I have some serious anxiety about being alone. Not panic-inducing, but just an underlying feeling of unease. Uncomfortableness. I couldn't get out of the house. So, instead of taking myself out to dinner, I at least tried to make up a new "recipe," which failed miserably: 

At least I tried. 

I catch myself already panicking for when I know he will have to go back to Ohio to see his dad, and it'll just be me, Odin, and my cat, Bean. I don't know why it's different now. We spent years being apart - he drove OTR, so he was more gone than home. It was my comfort zone. 

I'm fine leaving the house, and driving around the city when I know he is here at home, but something about the thought of leaving and existing on my own is somewhat terrifying.

I don't know what the connection is. Haven't figured that out yet. 

My brain is a hot mess. 

I don't know what good it would do to get an official diagnosis for what ails it, either, at this point. 

I just don't know. 

All I know is I am sick of how I flip-flop all over the place all day, every day, and can't seem to rein any of these thoughts in to make something comprehensible. 

It gets old. And saying that also made the eyeballs moist. 

Damn it.