I had the weirdest experience yesterday. I'm upset not only at the emotions that were experienced, but also at the unpredictability of their arrival and my complete inability to control them.
I was walking into Target and I spotted a red-vested old man heading to the parking lot. I assume that he had just finished a shift at my beloved store, but I imagined that this job was taken merely to keep his mind occupied, not because of a retirement fund that hit rock bottom. He was heading home to have tea with his wife of fifty years. (Yes, I have a vivid imagination).
He was cute - kind of like Owen Jenkins from Steel Magnolias. A man who's very disposition makes you want to walk up and hug him and pat him on the head. (Or maybe that's just me. I've definitely always had at thing for old men. Once, when I was a little girl, I invited a random old man to have lunch with my mom and me because he was eating by himself at a diner and I thought that was totally unacceptable).
First, I thought to myself, "Gosh, he's cute" - and then "Gee, he reminds me of my dad a little" (but my dad looked nothing like Owen Jenkins) - and then, I experienced a complete meltdown before I had even made it through the automatic doors. I had to veer to my left and head right back out of the store.
Of course I miss my dad. That goes without saying, doesn't it? We were extremely close and I took his death very hard. But I'm starting to think that perhaps I never mourned him properly because I was so busy taking care of everyone else. I have a bit of a track-record when it comes to denial, so this wouldn't be terribly surprising to me. In fact, I often get frustrated when people, such as my mother, wear their feelings so openly that everyone in a five-mile radius knows that they are greiving and why.
Although I believe that I understand grief to a certain extent, what I can't handle is the complete unpredictability of it all. Waves of sadness that cause me to abort a perfectly innocent shopping trip so I can lock myself in my car and cry. I thought I was dealing with everything, but maybe I'm just suppressing it and now it's coming back even stronger? It's like I'm playing a slow-motion game of Whack-A-Mole with my feelings and that damn grief mole just keeps popping up even though I bash him in the head with a mallet. Maybe it's just time that I pull a Caddyshack on that damn mole and blow up the whole golf course.
**Moliere
*HUG*
ReplyDeleteI am of a similar sort, my feelings are often pushed down in the interest of dealing with the crisis of the moment; the break-down can wait until later.
It was a survival tactic of my childhood that has held over and has helped me get through some really tough things but as I've gotten older, I've had to learn how to poke at it until the bubble breaks to get it over with already. Maybe you need to take a look at doing that?
Don't be too tough on yourself. Grief is not an exact science, and I think it sneaks up on us all. I'm sorry for your loss.
ReplyDeleteThat being said, it's never a bad thing to take a second look at something you suspect is a behavior pattern.
{{hugs}}
ReplyDeleteI haven't lost a parent, so I can't completely empathize. I do think, though, that grief is an ongoing process and can continue to resurface even if we've properly processed and worked through our feelings at the time. So don't be too hard on yourself.
My beloved grandmother died when I was 17. Even now, 20+ years later, there are still things that trigger memories of her and make me sad.
(Side note: I love Target, too.)
TUWABVB,
ReplyDeleteIf you are looking for ways to deal with this, my therapist introduced me to something called EMDR. I can't explain it properly but perhaps you could Google it? I thought she was nuts until my very best girlfriend (herself a counseling psychologist whom I trust VERY much) said she thought that kind of therapy was wonderful and she had actually done it herself with great results. It is used a lot with PTSD patients but it works well with other situations too because it can focus on one thing in particular (like your fathers death) and help you deal with it in a controlled environment. Read up on it and see what you think.
Sorry about your meltdown at Target. I hope after your cry in the parking lot, you were able to go back in.