I can hardly move. I have this sensation that if I just sit still I won’t have to cry anymore. Like a mouse aware of a snake in the barn I’m frozen in anticipation; hoping grief will forget that I am here and move quietly on its way.
I also have this immense feeling of dread. I can almost feel that the sadness is gathering strength somewhere in my peripheral and is waiting to catch me unaware and then it will unleash itself on me full strength. As bad as it is now I have the strongest sense that it plans to get worse. Darker. It will try to eat me if I let it.
I don’t really know why I am trying to write about this. Maybe I’m not. I’m just trying to put my brain to use. To force it to organize thoughts. Preparing for Nelson’s memorial took hours of pretty serious concentration and it was helpful for me. I looked at his face in hundreds and hundreds of pictures and thought of him intensely non stop for hours on end as I put together photo montages and selected songs. But those were the moments I wasn’t crying and I wasn’t floating aimlessly. Of course now there is no more memorial to plan and the world is beginning to uncurl its edges and go back about its business and we’re left here trying to go on. I guess I am hoping this can be the replacement activity to the memorial planning.
Already I am doubting though. I don’t understand the website or its features or why I would want to assign a category. The category is ‘my life is destroyed’. Is that a category? Tag this ‘my brother died and I don’t know how to go on’.
I want to feel normal again. I want the bliss I was unknowingly experiencing when Bart called me to tell me. I want my brother back. I want this to be the worlds longest nightmare.