A year has come and gone. I didn’t update the day of, or even a month following, because the grief hit hard. It finally became too much to process on my own, on this blog. I coped, but stress along with missing Raggedy Man became too much and I needed to focus on how to heal. I’m still learning that.
Peru and I spent ‘D-Day’ with my family, then with his ‘family’ in West Virginia. We stayed at this amazing little BnB that we hope to again. It’s so weird, to be so new to this journey and typing about someone else spending the day with me in a romantic fashion. Except it really wasn’t romantic. I think i cried that day maybe once, but I was numb to a degree.
A year ago Roo wasn’t with me, now she’s right next to me digging herself into a blanket burrito. She has been the constant calm during the crazy. She’s one of the best grounding tools there is. She knew Chris. She lived with he and I. She is forever my little breathing reminder that he wasn’t the dream i think of sometimes.
There’s some big news on the friends front, that i’m sure will be blogged about when the time is right. It, along with the Ed Sheeran concert in 54 days, is what’s helping me get through. Plus, all the encouragement from Peru. I also like to imagine Chris with me, which helps on the days I really struggle.
As always, I am surviving. It’s more like living now, even if some days that is bad. i am here.
There’s a little house on a perfect little hill
Just short of a fairytale
Long time no talk, blogging world. Depression hit hard and all energy has been focused on surviving. So what’s happened since then:
- Our one year annivesary. I was going to go out with friends but couldn’t bring myself to. Instead, I had lunch with my mom, aunt, brother, and future sister-in-law. (Side note… I can never say how much I appreciate all of them, especially said future sister in law. She held my hand at mawaws funeral a few weeks after Chris’s death. She took in Roo. I can never say thank you enough.) My aunt made tres leches. I then went to spend the night with my dad.
- My 27th birthday. Perry and I went to my grandparents old house, now my moms. She cooked us dinner. We then went to his hometown where I was welcomed by his friends. Much different then my 26th.
- California trip. Perry went with me. I’m always most happy there. San Fransisco is so bustling, and the air and energy both wears me out and exhilarates me. I missed it the second I boarded the plane back.
- Today. Visited one of the places I last had good memories of Chris with. A place we stood less than a week before he died. I made the trek to the top of the spillway and stood there. The view isn’t the same without him. We’d talked about moving to the area… he loved it.
Never did I think I’d be coming back around
Digging up old memories
Always used to be the one to let it go
Kept my fears in a suitcase
I’ve been having nightmares, though not too often. They’re always of his face and that’s a struggle. I woke up one night thinking Perry had died. That was a very, very rough night.
I gotta say it’s hard to be brave
When you’re alone in the dark
I told myself that I wouldn’t be scared
But I’m still having nightmares
I’m still having nightmares
I can’t say why I’m finding such solace in this song right now. Thanks, All Time Low. I just had a breakdown, over finances. Because it’s what I do. Then that leads to missing him right now. Because of course it does. Especially after today. After being somewhere I could alomst feel him. And here we are, in the final countdown. Less than a month until what I call ‘D-Day.’ I thankfully have Warped Tour 5 days laters. Music, always pulling me through. Especially We the Kings.
I haven’t written because this is my life currently. Breathing, getting by day by day somehow. Missing him more and more, while learning to breathe without him still.
So the answer to how I’m doing: I’m surviving.
I’m currently laying in my bed, trying to form thoughts out of things that are swirling. In 17 days, Chris and I should have been celebrating our one year anniversary. Instead I’m going to a concert with friends. Here’s a secret – I want to bail already.
When i planned this I didn’t expect April to hit like a ton of bricks. However, it did. Actually March 30 hit with a panic and coming to the apartment and telling Perry we had to leave. Now. Go anywhere. I just needed out. So we went to see my best friend, then to see my dad. And all was well. Until today.
Today I had to pull into a parking lot driving home from work because it hit. Hard. The missing his voice and his smile. The wanting to hear him laugh. Wanting to hug him. I want him to call me his ‘silly girl’ and laugh with me. But he isn’t here. Be won’t be coming back and sometimes that is still so freaking hard to accept
So I’m here, in bed, covered under a mountain of sheets. There are dishes in the sink and the litter box needs to be cleaned. Trash needs to be taken out. I still need to unpack. But I am tired. And sad. And this needs to be said because there are many whom think I am ‘so put together’ or ‘moving on’ and I’m.. so so not.
I push forward because I know it’s what he would want. I have found love again, but it is different. I try to keep being strong but sometimes we all break. No matter how well we seem to be doing.
So no, I’m not okay. I really stand by I don’t know if I ever will be again. But I’ll keep trying. I owe it to my heart, my spirit, to keep going. To be the person Chris saw in me.
Please don’t forget about this day. I know that many aren’t sure how to handle it. Because he’s gone. But please don’t forget. Please feel free to wish me, us, a happy anniversary.
If he were here with me physically right now, we’d be planning. We’d probably make a trip to the Hill Country of Texas or maybe Austin. We’d find some quirky place to eat and just enjoy each other’s company. Instead, I am spending the day with my closest friends and trying to enjoy.
I’m struggling. Hard. Life keeps changing and it’s hard to keep up. I’ve hit some sort of depression amplified by this looming date. I am humbled by the people who are in my life and give me hope.
Please don’t forget us. Me. Help me remember the happy.
Is the fear of my own death. I mean, it’s always been there. I joked with a friend that I could tell I’m becoming happy again because I worry about dying. However, today proved to be a whole different level.
I cried. Hard. I don’t wish this life on anyone. This living without the person you chose to be with dying so suddenly. I became sad, sitting there praying that I don’t leave my family or Perry (there! Have his *real* name).
That sadness entertained with a fear that Perry would pass on. That something catastrophic would happen and I wouldn’t be able to get there. Have I mentioned this is currently a LDR? Because it is. So that has its own set of my worries.
Grief is such this big messed up roller coaster. I’ve lived through my worst nightmare and the aftershocks take me to the ground sometimes. Today was one of those unexpected moments.
Chris always said death came in 3s. So when he died, I was sort of waiting for the other foot to drop. Well, the other 2. And the first one was my Mamaw, 20 days following Chris.
He passed on her birthday. One of my clearest memories from that day is sitting in the hospital room at 8 am and Chris excitedly going ‘we need to call your Mamaw!’ When Chris passed, I told Mamaw I’d be back to take care of her now but I never saw her again.
In some ways, I haven’t grieved Mamaw. I mean I have. I miss her. Every time I go to her house I miss the biscuits and gravy and our talks. But her and Chris died so close together my mind and heart was still in shock.
Valentines Day was rough emotionally. Amusingly, not because of Chris being gone but because of Mamaw being gone. Her and my Papaw (who passed in 2015) always went me something. My aunt did as well. It was like a group effort. And this was the first year I didn’t get anything from them.
One of my favorite Valentines memories is when an ex didn’t show up for dinner as promised. I called my Papaw crying, and he called and gathered my family for an hour drive to my college, at 8 o’clock, so I wouldn’t be alone. Mamaw held my hand.
It’s all little things. I know my Mamaw is with my Papaw and that helps. My heart just aches sometimes. I miss my people.
Chris used to come home from Wing Tsun and have me run to hug him, telling him all about what happened. There were many times my anxious mind would cry, like when Shepard died. I’d sit there begging God not to take Chris and have that voice tell me he wouldn’t be. That I deserved to be happy and that Chris and I would have years together. Except we didn’t.
So I’m sitting here, on Peru’s bed, crying. A mixture of someone seizing because of course they do and praying that I don’t loose Peru as well.
And this is what people mean when they say it takes strength after loss. It takes courage. Because I am painfully aware that everything could be fine and 5 minutes later he be gone. That this man, who came in out of nowhere knowing the broken that I was, knowing how much I love Chris but still wants to protect me and keep me warm and make me laugh and have me talk about Chris, could no longer walk this earth. And it is terrifying if I let myself think on it too long.
I think in many ways this post is the most private. I do a pretty good job of ‘being okay.’ But there are moments I’m not. There are moment’s Chris’s death is still as raw as it was July 14, 2017. I have been changed in so many ways. I am stronger. I’ve learned to take risks because the next moment isn’t guaranteed. But I am changed. For better or for worse.