A theme from this week, coming from having some downtime in Canberra, seeing friends, seeing old places. Allowing myself to have emotions, allowing them to be valid.
Or not, as the case may be.
I had a bit of a sad while in Canberra,
Crying over losses.
But getting frustrated at myself for being sad
For crying
Having those feelings validated by Karen and Stu,
Hugging me
Letting me cry.
Telling me my feelings were valid
Not something I’m used to
Or able to do for myself.
I think I judge my emotions too much, rather than just letting myself feel what I feel, and when someone dies, that’s always one of the more confronting times to over-think your emotions, your reactions.
When older people die, I react more to the pain of the people around me than any overly strong emotions about the person’s death. Yes, I was sad when my grandfather died, but his gradual decline over the few years leading up to it, and spending the last 6 months in hospitals made it a matter of when. Preparedness.
Same with my uncle who we lost overnight. A stroke a year ago maybe really put him out of action. And it’s been little chips away since. And so the goodbyes were expected to happen, sometime in the near future at least. Right now the biggest feeling is guilt, around not being there for people as much as I would have liked to have been.
My aunt, back at the end of first year uni, was a different story. Her daughter, finding her 40 year old mother unresponsive, ran to our house (down the street), me mum and my father running down to hopefully help, but unfortunately not being able to. The people coming up to me at the funeral thanking me for my attempts to help made me uncomfortable. Discomfort was the biggest emotion that day. And the need to comfort and look after others.
I’m not sure if it’s that I shut down? That I don’t let myself cry? Or that I rationalised the tears away? Or I’ve already processed those emotions? I’m not sure.
The younger people, Cancer taking Amanda at 26, or the suicides of Tania and Karter within a month of each other, do they hit me harder because of my own fears around what could happen to me? Because I wasn’t close to those people. But the three deaths each really shook me. There was that sense of helplessness there. I don’t like to feel that way. Or is it just the shock?
Maybe when I’m old, when I start losing peers to age-related illnesses, maybe then those sorts of deaths will affect me more outwardly.
Or maybe by then I’ll understand my own emotional processes a little better.
Take care *hug*
lifeline – 13 11 14
I survived Turkey, but somehow couldn’t survive getting overtired, and lost it over some of my favourite underwear getting a bit mangled b the washing machine – The sailor set previously mentioned went all grey in the lace, with the straps worse for wear, and my green Mossimo set not very happy in the white parts. Also my hot pink ones that I wore under my pirate outfit *pouts*
Being overtired and female, I cried … of course, obvious reaction.
So, not the best ending to the day.
But got over it by talking to Rish for about 20 minutes at a public payphone, and just getting into the fresh air. Finding being n that little house kinda stifling – it’ hot, smells like mothballs and there’s three women with varying reactions to being tired :p
Turkey was like Greece – Ephesus was good, more ruins, but it made me sick to watch that everyone was putting their hands all over everything and climbing all over things… Markets were… there.. got done cute dipping sauce bowls, and a couple of pashminas…
Still need to source some dinner – but here at 11:30pm, that’s not a problem- the night is still young!
Off to Syros tomorrow…. 9 hours on a ferry *dies*