Worry Not

I’m having a lot of trouble slowing down or not doing anything. I don't like not having plans and things to look forward to. I don't like being sedentary; I don't like having to wait. I think I'm scared of being alone with my thoughts and having too much time to sit and think about everything. I’m pretty scared of what's in my head and I think I try to distract myself as much as possible from it. June and July are scary for that reason. I don't really have that much going on in either. I have a lot of waiting to do and a lot of alone time coming up. I’m not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I’m not sure if its good for me to sit, just sit, and think and let all of these memories and thoughts come. I don't really dream so its not Iike my subconscious is processing anything at night. I’m scared to sort things out, knowing that I'm sorting things out. I don't want to process Meghan. I don't want to lose any of it or move on or leave parts of her behind. I’m ok with talking about her, I don't get choked up or overly sad when I talk about who she is to me and what happened to her. I’m ok with that. I just get upset at the notion of forgetting. I don't have an outlet anymore.

She was my subconscious. She was how I worked through everything every day. She was that voice in the back of my head telling me I'm an idiot for wasting money on really dumb things (anything with flashing lights or buttons.) She was the first person I went to when trying to make nearly every decision. It feels like half of my thought process is missing. Like we finished the puzzle together. THE puzzle. Now half of that puzzle with it's crazy intricate pieces that could only fit in exactly one way is gone. I can’t redo that puzzle. I cant push other pieces in its place or make them fit. Even if I could I don’t want to.
Honestly, I don't know what to do. I don't know how to make myself better. Half of the time I don't want to be better. I know she would handle this a lot better. We all know how strong she could be. She would be there for other people and make sure they’re taken care of. She would be the last person she’d worry about.

Maybe this is my subconscious working. Maybe I know without knowing? Not ten minutes after she passed away I knew I had to finish her goals. And I think I knew that not so much because they were her goals but because of what they were. Almost all of them are altruistic. She knew that. She knew that there is a lot of personal gain in serving others. She knew that there's a lot of time, alone time, on a train across Canada. She knew there is a lot of love and support exchanged equally from doing things with her friends. She knew there is much wisdom to be gained through reading and teaching one's self new things. All of these goals, things, and steps along the way are keeping her memory alive and helping me to process the loss of her.



a friend wrote this in response to my editing request which I thought was especially helpful and real and honest:

Of course this makes sense! It's hard not to feel like you're repeating yourself when your mind is constantly on.... on replay, re-do, reject... rewind. There's this sense of undo... to allow yourself unwind, but the fear that that will take place in the most literal sense. That sense that if you do finally stop, even if for a second, you will just come undone.
The momentum of this project and the idea of pressing on with what would make Meghan proud is an extreme momentum. But like anything else in the world, there is no constant forward. There is always a lull ans always a moment of reflection and doubt to wade through, to get to the next froward step. You are making great strides, both in this project and in your personal grief. I'm sure Meghan is seeing you in the same light she always has and I'm sure she's impressed. How could she not be? Sure, she may have handled the flip side of all of this differently, but she has given you such vision that this is not something you would have thought of doing if it weren't for her. You can't blame yourself for not responding to all of this the way she would have. You are YOU and that's why she loves you. I know it isn't much comfort, but this IS a really epic way of handling your loss and the LAST thing it will do is push her memory further away. If anything it keeps her closer to you than your own skin. You seem to have a better grip on what her mindset would be than your own. It's terrifying, the idea of "letting go", like to do so would force you to feel all this all over again. When we allow ourselves to fall so deep in love, it's hard to see anything else. When it goes, it's much like losing limbs, your heart and having a stroke all within a painfully real dream. There's a fuzzy quality to it all, no matter how bad it hurts or how bitter it tastes.
It's ok to have things to run to, as long as you ensure that you're not running away. I know the idea of being still causes a lot of anxiety, like there's a wave the size of a skyscraper waiting to crush you as soon as you stop. The talking is the easy part. You say the words so many times they start to feel scripted, like someone else wrote it and you're just here to recite it..... hackneyed, over-used and distant. Most of the time I can talk about my step-dad without crying, in fact, I laugh a lot and have almost always been able to. There's something about telling the story, sharing that makes it bearable. Like if you say it over and over than the whole experience loses power. I think that a lot of the mourning we go through is mourning the future and all the plans we had. That stuff is so big and border-less it's hard not to miss it, even if we never had it to begin with. This is why we set ourselves up to look forward to new things. Trips, plans, projects.... it helps us see a new future. It's fine to do these things, as long as you know that they are only band-aids for the grief that will still come in the quietest hours.
You dream whether you know it or not. But your mind is quick to smooth away the things you have told it you're not ready for. You don't have to let her go, ever. No one would ever ask that of you. Don't be scared of what you might hear or feel when you're alone. Although, you need to be able to remind yourself that the darkest things you feel are not nearly as heavy as the weight of what Meghan means to you and how this project will keep her as big and as bright as she's always been. It's only in the darkest nights that the brightest lights can be seen.
THE puzzle. You have to remember that we don't always know what the puzzle is until it's finished. Meghan is a huge portion of your puzzle, but not the only portion of it. Nothing else is MEANT to fill that space. There's a whole other side that waits to be finished and everything you're doing is going to help you find the rest. There are so many places to go and people to meet and people to help. There are drinks and laughter, too. You said before that you thought your relationship with Meghan was mostly to your benefit and maybe this is all just another way for her to help you. Sometimes people help us feel stronger, more complete and safe. Like we'd never met ourselves before and like we couldn't go on without them. But sometimes, they come into our lives to help us see that we'd been that strong, complete and safe all along. They help us see life for the beauty that it is, even if it seems like the shine has worn off a bit once they've gone.
I wish I could streamline this for you. Make it easier or clearer. But it seems to me that Meghan would remind you that there is a lesson in all of this. I know it all weighs a million pounds even if the whole experience if full of holes. So lift what you can and remind yourself that the higher you lift it, the more all the excess will pour through it like a sieve. I know you don't want to get through it sometimes and that's because in all of this, your grief is your own. There are a lot of things on your future, some things you can control and a lot you can't. So let it come. Let pass through you too. The less resistance you have, the more easily it starts to make sense. The worst has already happened, there's nothing else to fear.