I have taken a hiatus from writing this blog. I didn't stop grieving, I just went into hiding. Now that I have emerged, I would say that I have become a recovering widow. With recover comes a new type of healing, its called re living. The irritating thing about grief, is that re entry into living is sort of like a new form of grieving. I am happy, and yet I still miss him, and yet I don't. I knew what living life with Pete looked like, but I had no clue as to what living a happy life looked like, without him physically present. I knew that it thankfully had to be different. After all, I didn't want the same life now that I had finally woken up from my grieving coma. So what does re living look like? Its messy, its complicated, its loving, its joyful, and, its bittersweet. I have learned to love in a way that I didn't think was possible. For me re living takes a special man to come in and not think that we were broken. What he saw, was a family that needing repairing and re loving.
There are many re-living factors that are just plain hard to over come. I feel overwhelmed. I feel that it is my job to carry every emotion, frustration or anxiety that comes through my front door. Whether it is something that happened at school with Aryanna, or a homework assignment that Petey doesn't want to do, or that Chase Leo is mad that he cant have exactly what he wants at all times. That's just the kids. That doesn't even cover J's emotions, frustrations or what he deals with while at school. In carrying all of these things I have forgotten my own emotions and have wedged them deep inside to make room for their wounds. While irrational as this seems it the only way I know. I think its because, part of me is still stuck in survival mode. That's what I did before. I carried the kids grief and I carried my own. Now I that I have J, I carry his stuff too. As if I am punishing myself in some way for wanting to live a happy and crazy life.
Why do I do this? I don't know. I know that if the roles were reversed I would definitely want Pete to find love and happiness. And knowing my Pete, I know in my gut, that he would want these things for me too. Possibly this is just another lesson in learning to re live. I am starting to see the effects of why carrying the family is not such a good idea. My panic attacks are back and they are geared to a specific part of my life, driving. No idea why. Its very annoying. I used to have panic attacks as a kid and my dad could never understand them. Which is common, people who don't understand what its like, just write me off, as being weird or crazy. The problem is, is that I have to drive. Drive to pick up the kids, drive to get the groceries, drive to ballet. Driving is just part of every day life. I have found myself avoiding going certain places and situations for fear of having to drive on the highway or crowded roads. Honestly, just sitting here thinking about driving to ballet on Wednesday or a dental appointment that is at the end of the month my heart starts to race, and my hands sweat. I don't understand it and I don't know how to fix it. Any ideas?
The question I seem to struggle with is this, am I afraid to drive? Or is the driving a symptom of too much emotional shit that is still hanging around? Part of being a mom is caring and carrying the burdens of your family. So if carrying the burdens feels like re grieving and not re living then how does one cope?
There is no handbook on grieving just like there is no handbook on how to re-learn to re-live. I don't know, maybe I am just a crazy red haired lady learning to re live with a recovering widows perspective.