Coping Mechanisms
Did I ever tell you I'm not doing well?
I had a rough summer.
I have tried to write all of the threads that created the tapestry of how rough it was, but it either comes across like a play-by-play of tragedy, or a mess of thoughts from someone who is still actively Going Through It™. And babe, I am.
In short and extremely blunt terms: my dad had open heart surgery, which he suffered complications from, resulting in me flying to Reno to be there for him while he was in the hospital. After three weeks, he finally started to show signs of improvement, so I made plans to go home. The night before I was going to leave, my oldest brother, Dean, suddenly died. We still don’t know from what, and won’t know for a long time. I miss him so much.
To be honest, it feels like such a relief to lay it out like that. In the plainest, not-having-to-soften-it-for-anyone terms. In these times, I like to talk to people about how I’m feeling. I appreciate when people ask. I am fortunate to have a husband, a group of friends and members of my family who are so good at talking about these things. Most people aren’t. I get it. Talking about someone else’s death means you have to acknowledge it might happen to you, or someone you love. And that’s uncomfortable. You’re afraid of saying the wrong thing, so you don’t say anything. It’s easier not to engage. I just remind myself to know my audience before I open up, because it hurts to open up and watch someone else shut down.
Even with the compassionate people in my life, I still feel like I can only go so far before I become Grief Girl. My mom died three years ago, and now my brother died. Plus, I had a side of “dad didn’t recover fully from heart surgery.” I’ve had so many people say “that’s too much.” And they’re right. It is. But I also don’t want my defining trait to be Going Through It™. I don’t want loss to become a lifestyle. You know the vibe.
I have been doing a lot of “self-improvement,” if that term refers to improving small imperfections about myself. Days after I got back from Reno, I made an appointment to have some harmless bumps lasered off my eyelid. I scheduled a speech therapy appointment for a very slight lisp I’ve had my entire life. I have a consultation set up for Invisalign. It’s all so transparent: I can’t fix what happened to my brother, so I’ll chisel away at what I can fix. Hope that if I “correct” all these things about myself, it will give me a sense of control again.
I have been responding to such specific entertainment. Because my brother was Gen X, I pretty much only listen to music he liked, or music that’s from that generation, or music that sounds like it’s from that generation (Olivia Rodrigo’s new album really fits that last descriptor). I’ve been watching a lot of Gen X movies. Oh, and I’ve been watching these bottle smashing videos on Tik Tok.
This user (and other wannabes) set up large amounts of bottles, sometimes with paint inside of them and destroy them. This particular user has graduated to hanging two toilets and swinging them at each other, during which you hear him say “Oh no! Toilet!”
I tried sharing them with my friends, but they were pretty unimpressed. When they asked me why I liked watching them, I said “it’s a mess I don’t have to clean up.”
Most days, I’m just trying to accept that grief is the same way.
<3 <3 <3