The 364 day mourn

If my loyal readers of three are familiar with my blog, you will understand that it has been a year and a bit since my life did a loopy doopy topsy turvy transformation.  Looking back it was a hard one.

I know that loss is inevitable, some more traumatic than others of course, I’m also not at all afraid of change, or death for that matter. Death is, after all, a far better dealeo than we currently have on this planet that just cannot seem to advance past the dark ages. I also know that, stress and anxiety can be secretly sneaking up on you during these low times ready to pounce in the most precarious ways and cause reactions you are not prepared for. AT ALL. Pesky little critters.

I was not aware, however, that even as strong and as educated as I am on all of the above, my body still went on attack and I found myself sleeping away the whole month of May and part of June.

What I realized is that the less educated and far more barbaric humans of long ago (I say that all loosely as I think we are far more barbaric and uneducated now) knew exactly what the body went through and were very clever in SOME of their mourning practices.

I went out with my dad for a few shared hours on the year anniversary of moms death. It was all so very anti climatic to the point where I was feeling on the tipping point of severe guilt. BUT, my dad and I openly communicated the fact that within the past few weeks our energy levels had returned somewhat, him and I being crafty but in very different ways, and that we were sleeping better and having less moments of despair and longing. He will suffer those far longer than I having to live in a home that is truly my mom from basement to attic. But, what we both realized is that mourning, seriously, no matter who you are and what you have to go through, literally takes 364 days. LITERALLY. At least this is what we came to believe. Your body seems to have this clock, an odd rhythm of sort, a sense of knowing or maybe the spirit of lost ones are given their time to hold on and let go after the 12th full moon, I have no idea, but whatever it is it is one solid earth year.  I’m not lessening those who still feel severe pain in such loved ones losses, what I’m saying is, life begins again after the 364th day and you can move about with an ease that was not there, AT ALL, before.

I still find myself in tears and I can still hear her voice as clear as it was that fate filled day. But, I am able to rid myself of the blues much easier and I can actually make it through a full day without wanting desperately to disappear into the world of sleep.

I have found my paints, I have opened up my crafting bags and I have begun to make my world mine again. I can genuinely laugh out loud or crack ridiculous jokes and not feel so damned fake about it anymore.

It’s a damned slow process, damned slow and my heart goes out to all those who suffer depression as a daily issue. It is a hard hard way to live.

My 364 days of mourning have come and gone. I can take off the proverbial black dress, I no longer feel the need to withdraw from societal duties (although I am still introverted…) and there will be no tomb building (city codes absolutely oppose of such wonders – too bad). I find myself humming tunes and smiling for no reason again, although, the muscles around my lips need work {wink}…

We’re getting there.

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