Peace and Quiet

"She was so tired now. No matter what you see or feel or come to know, you get tired. You cannot grieve on and on hour after hour day after day."

- Anne Rice

The Witching Hour

It's pretty late. I have to get up in a few hours to begin a new work week and whatever other adventures life and family - Mother - have in store for me, but for the first time in months, the calm doesn't seem repressive. Odd. So, I'm savoring this moment. Greg wandered off to bed while we were watching Julie and Julia. Not his cup of tea at all, but I offered him Terminator Salvation instead, or Red Cliff , both more manly choices, and he didn't want those either. So, I went with Meryl Streep and Amy Adams, both of whom I like better than I did the movie they were in. I am tired, but I am tired of being tired, so I think that plays into it a bit. I want to rebel a bit and stay up past my bedtime.

It's sort of indicative of how I feel overall about things. I want to rejoin life, while at the same time I really would like to curl up in a ball and sleep for a week. Our grief counselor says I'm entering the acceptance phase. That seems odd, really, but I think he's right. Problem is, with every door I push open and walk through, I go through an intense bout of something. I don't even know what to call it. Panic. Depression. Fright. Because, I theorize, I am afraid with each new phase I enter, I leave my daughter further behind. That's probably not true, but it feels that way. So, while I may be moving forward in some ways, I'm conflicted. And really worn out. Simply dead on my feet. However long I sleep in a night, it's not enough, but at least it's now a deep sleep, and my dreams are mainly outside of my reach. This is a hard process, you come to find out, so I think it's worn me down. If I were someone else just watching this from afar, I would be fascinated by the stages and the individual's reactions to them. But, since it's me, it's a little different. That's why I see so many movies. It's why I've always done it. For two hours or so you're immersed in someone's world that is not your own. Their troubles are what you're thinking about. And it's best when they're blue aliens or vampires or Chinese warriors from 208 AD because there is little chance you'll find something triggering that will pull you back into your own body before the credits roll.

And the other odd thing about being ready to accept all of this was that I feel so lost. However, that's the trigger that made him pronounce me as graduating to that step. He says it shows I'm looking to move on - seeking out a new definition for myself. Well, maybe. I just feel lost for now. And sort of disorganized. I don't have a lot of ambition or drive, which is why I opted for watching a mildly entertaining chick flick as opposed to doing what I really should have been doing all evening. But, the time is flying, and I really do need to get to bed. The work week will begin in just a few hours.