Thursday, September 16, 2010

Passing Strange...

Since learning of Shafika's death, I've experienced a grieving period so strange I'm not even sure if it's a grieving period.

The most noticeable thing is since tuesday it's like some sparkly ball of energy fueling me just switched off and I've felt tired with the exception of about an hour after I wake each day. But by the time I'm done walking the dog, I just want to sleep.

Because it isn't my daughter that has died, I still have to fulfill my obligations, when all I want to do is crash and burn in my bed. The 'highlight' of my week was dragging myself (almost literally) up 7 flights of stairs (I insist) to my Law tute where I collected my test results 18/20 and realised promptly that I'd been studying too hard and didn't need to be there, so I walked out.

I just can't be fucked doing anything, I have a strong desire to crawl into a small space and hibernate until someway somehow it's all over.

I just don't know what 'it' is, I sense that I also have some long overdue emotional breakdown pent up and waiting to come out. But try as I might I just can't release that valve. I thought it might happen today, when my body woke me up in the early hours of the morning to be alone with my thoughts.

But instead I managed to sink back into the fractured dream that involved waiting for a train and reading the blog of a father who was dying writing notes to his daughter and posting drawings of fingers intertwined that he drew with his son. I woke up and felt like something sad had happened but it was not the sadness I need or think I need right now.

I find myself thinking about Shafika and the family often, I suspect that try as I might to accept the reality it keeps cropping up because I haven't. I realise in hindsight why I dreaded calling Zaman every week to check up on him and Shafika in what feels like a whirlwind between everything is okay and now everything is over. When I first got the news from Zaman, he said they had found cancer in her liver. I then got a conflicting report that it was in her pancreas from another volunteer.

I never bothered to clarify, actually I deliberately avoided clarifying because I know pancreatic cancer is regarded as a death sentence and liver cancer can be fought and overcome with early detection. It makes me realise that we almost always hope for the best and really don't prepare for the worst. I think this form of denial from me is what has allowed me to keep it from overwhelming me till now.

But I'm not overwhelmed with grief, at risk of sounding melodramatic, I just feel dead inside. It's similar to when Misaki broke it off with me, because I'd been through everything with Claire before hand, I had nothing really to do or adjust. There's like nothing for my mind to come to terms with, so I just feel tired and run down. Hopefully I can cry this sadness out at some point, hopefully it will be somewhere queit and alone, not public with nowhere to retreat to.

My dog knows that all is not right in my world, yesterday she was particularly mopey, and yesterday was probably my worst day thus far. I just can't imagine anything making me feel better, more concerning perhaps is that I can't imagine anything making me feel worse.

Thus thusly, these are strange times for me and I see no escape.

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