It’s been a rough week, babe. I think the preoccupation provided by the distractions of this past month are wearing off. I had noticed the grief had shifted from chronic, slow-burn sadness and despair to not feeling it when focused on moving or travel or blah blah blah but then a big wave would hit that hurt worse but didn’t last as long. Well, this week, I am kind of just feeling both of those modes of grief, without much distraction.
I want to do so well in this job, babe. It’s because of you that I was even able to make it happen, and it is as much your success as mine. I will honor you by doing my best at it.
I am starting to settle into the idea that the people that were there in previous months are not going to be here moving forward. But I still need the support. Some of our friends are taking “breaks” from me…I wish I could take a fucking break, ya know? I wish we all could.
The thing is, they never communicate that they are taking the break. They just take it, and I figure it out, but that cuts deep. It’s triggering. There was this other time I recall that reminds me of their approach- where the person I loved and depended on most in this world left the house and never came back (it was you, babe, you did that), with no communication until it was too late. That’s what this lack of communication reminds me of. And it confirms the suspicion that I am a burden to my support group. It’s difficult to have two of your main support sources just ghost you, for a while, at least. It fucks with my trust and abandonment issues around your death.
I guess the one good thing is the difference in my reaction to their choices. Like, old Chelsea would have been hurting and yearning to stay connected with those people. I’ve done it in the past- putting way to much effort into friendships that was not being reciprocated, and I just didn’t get the hint. Now, it upsets me in a different way- where I decide those people don’t deserve the best Chelsea (I was talking to Tish in the wee hours of the morning, last night- those are her words).
I know no one knows how this feels, even those closest to me, and closest to you, and closest to your last night. I know it’s hard for people, and maybe I have a skewed perspective because of that, but if I had a friend who just lost their fucking life partner under tragic and traumatic circumstances, all of my expectations of that person would be gone. For a while. Like, if there was no reciprocation of anything, I would be okay with it, because as a true friend I would realize that I cannot fathom the pain they are in, but I know they still need love, now more than ever. But that wouldn’t mean I would allow them to take advantage of me or walk all over me or break my boundaries, and I would know when to pump the breaks before I felt so burnt out on supporting them that I just stopped talking to them. That I stopped communicating with them, completely.
Maybe it’s just more than anyone who didn’t ask for it can handle, including myself, but they still have a choice around how much exposure they have. Maybe I’ve been relying on them too much. Fuck, I cannot wait to talk to this therapist, today. A V17 friend helped me find them and I’m very hopeful it will help.
Honestly, in any other situation I would gag at the next statement, but it’s 100% fact, and it makes me wonder. On those really bad days, when the grief waves are most painful, I am a flight risk. Right now, I think about that actually coming to fruition while I am on the outs with these people, and I wonder if they have considered that. Like that is the kind of support I need. Unconditional support. Not forever, but for now. For fucks sake, it’s only been a little over three months. It was basically yesterday. It feels like it was today. In any relationship, sometimes one person has to carry the other. At least, that’s how I view my relationships. That’s how I thought it was going to be when you agreed to see the therapist- you had carried me through so, so much, you amazing, gentle, kind, supportive soul, and I was finally going to get to repay you. Give you something in return for all that you gave to me. For a while, it would finally feel like we were sharing the spotlight, instead of it just being “The Chelsea Show,” as I used to worry it was.
I think that’s where a good portion of this guilt comes from, babe. I feel like I took and took and took from you until you had nothing left in you for yourself. Even though I told you all this, and you insisted there was nothing more I could do for you. That making me happy made you happy. Remember that time you made your own breakfast after I asked you if I could make you breakfast and I got wicked mad? Was your self-loathing stopping you from allowing me to do something for you? Like you didn’t think you deserved it?
Honestly, I am not trying to take advantage of anyone in my support circle, and I’ve tried my best during this time to convey how incredibly grateful I am to the people that continue to stick around. However, if they don’t want to be there, I didn’t ask them to be and I don’t want them to be. That isn’t productive for anyone. But if they stay of their own accord, I just think I need to make a statement around expectations moving forward. Like, I feel like no one should expect anything of me or from me in the next two years, at least (I wanted to say five, really). There are so many parts of this that people don’t think about that I am never going to get over. Parts that haven’t even reared their ugly head, yet. I will just be carrying those things forever. In fact, maybe when people ask why I never check a bag when traveling, I should start saying it’s because I can barely carry all my emotional baggage lol.
Tisha thinks I should do stand-up…I think the show would need a very dark disclaimer.
I have been seeing you, everywhere, this week. Why is it so many people in DC look like you. Or at least the back of their head looks like the back of your head. Even the night we searched for you, I could have sworn I saw you driving past me when we were still on the street where 911 pinged your phone. It just started happening, this week, and I really don’t like it. It’s jarring. I was trying to put a good spin on it, on Monday, like for a moment I could suspend reality and have hope that it was you, but now it’s happening too often.
Babe, you would be so incredibly proud of Hugo. Honestly, you wouldn’t even recognize our dog. This training has been life-changing for both of us. I wish it didn’t take you leaving for me to learn about it and look into it. Maybe if Hugo hadn’t been such a stressor, you would have been able to hold out a bit longer.
We miss you so, so much. We need you. Your voice in my head is getting stronger, and I can feel you with us more often than before. I don’t know if that means I’m just becoming more desperate for you or you’re there trying to carry me, again. Whatever it is, I’m not mad about it. I love you so much.