Confessions

I’m forcing myself to write tonight. I don’t really want to, but I know that I need to. Part of that healing process, I guess. Force yourself to do that which you know will be beneficial etc…etc…It’s too bad that’s the last thing I want to do.

I find it increasingly difficult to write these journals. The subject matter is there, the emotion is lurking in the background, but the words seem to be hindered.

I feel as though I’ve done a disservice to the death of my grandfather over the last month or so of my “spelling it out.” Maybe I’m inept, or maybe human words could never traverse the true depth of the emotion in my soul?

I hate to sound dramatic, and even a part of me is curling at the thought of it, but I oft remind myself of the trauma involved.

Not only that one instance but the continued trauma that occurred consistently for a year after his passing.

I don’t know where to go with his memory. Ever since his passing I’ve had a fear of death that constantly looms over my shoulder. Rarely does it press in, but when it does, count me out…

I lose myself in the vast, unknowable idea of eternity and the process of death. I’m not afraid of what comes after death…It’s the getting there that terrifies me.

I’m often told that he would be mad if he knew that we were still mourning his passing. I’m sure that would be true, but I would question whether he truly knew how much he meant to us. I don’t think he ever did and I hate myself for not telling him more often.

It’s the small things in death that are illuminated. Words you did or didn’t say…Phone calls you did or didn’t make…Arguments you should or shouldn’t have had. It’s all a wash at this point, but it turns your eyes forward…What’s going to be my regret the next time someone close to me passes?

What would be your biggest regret?

If one has to be positive, though, I’d have to say that living this life has become more surreal to me. There’s a vibrancy to nature around me. There’s a desire to live life to the fullest. There’s an itching to try new experiences…put myself out there more…do that which used to terrify me.

For example, I’m getting a tattoo in a few months. It’s something I’ve always thought about, but have never had the guts to actually do. I feel like I can stomach the pain…Shouldn’t be too awful…To me, this tattoo will represent the culmination of everything I’ve been through this year and the healing process that I’ve started. When I get the official design, I’ll post it.

It’s not easy, my friends. If you’re out there and struggling, I hope that you take peace out of knowing you’re not alone through what I write. I know they’re not the most incredible pieces of literature you’ve ever read, but it’s my heart. Raw and exposed.

Before I start diving into the next few chapters of the last year, I want to say that where I’m currently at is better than where I have been. That’s what it’s about, right? Forward motion?

That’s something to celebrate. What little there is, but something, nonetheless. Unfortunately, I’m far too hard on myself and expect complete perfection even though we both know it’s not attainable. Therefore, the cycle continues its tread. Round and round we go…

Here’s to another day…I hope and pray that it was lived to the fullest…If not, hopefully, we’ve got another one right around the corner.

You are loved.

You are valued.