Thursday, December 15, 2005

Eternal sunburn

As I sat at the end of the driveway in the cold wet slush, sobbing uncontrollably and pondering if I had broken my left wrist (watching several cars go by without so much as a honk of the horn), I had an epiphany. Or perhaps I actually had the epiphany while I was sitting in my empty minivan at the end of my driveway, with a cold wet ass, sobbing uncontrollably, pondering if I had broken my left wrist and screaming at the universe, "I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE! YOU WIN! I CAN'T TAKE ANYMORE!" Either way, my ass was wet and cold, my wrist hurt like a bitch, and I couldn't stop the tears when I had an epiphany.

You see, it's not that falling on my ass is any better or worse than it was before. I'm notoriously clumsy and I'm used to looking up at the world from the fallen position. It's that I feel emotionally sunburned. You know, the sunburned feeling...where even the softest clothes feel as though they are peeling layers of your skin right off your living body. Where the only possible way to survive is to sit REALLY still...in the nude. That's me. Every thought, every interaction, every random happening in my daily life could very well be the softest of cashmere...but it rubs me raw and makes me feel like every nerve ending is going to explode.

I'm not any luckier or unluckier than I was before. I'm the same old me with the same old average problems and issues. But my brain is sunburned...raw from the attempts to "deal" or "grieve" or "heal" or "adjust" or "cope"...whatever the term du jour might be on any given day.

I didn't have a choice to stay out in the sun too long. I was sort of set out there and locked out of the house. Whether it was accidental or intentional that I was locked out is still a big question in my mind. But the fact is that I'm really needing to just strip down to the bare essentials and sit really still for a while. All the holiday hustle and bustle...I just can't do it. All the normal boring everyday hustle and bustle...I just can't do that either. Every time I ignore what my sunburn is telling me, I seem to end up hurting all over again. Really deep down, intense pain.

So tonight I'm going to nurse my cold wet sore ass...and my incredibly slow-down-my-typing-sore wrist...and sit very still. I think I need to pay attention to what the pain is telling me. I can't take anymore. I guess I'm just a slow healer.

7 comments:

holley said...

hugs.

Although those can be pretty painful with a sunburn too.


Maybe you need another sabbatical from work? It wouldn't fix anything but it might give you a chance to zone. Even if it is just a week.

Of course, if I'm gone from work for longer than three days I never want to go back.

msfitzita said...

(((HUGS)), (((HUGS)), and more (((HUGS)). I wish I could do more, but I'm sending these because it's all I can do - I hope you can feel them. And I hope your bum and your arm feel much better tomorrow.

Laura said...

Catherine,
(((((((((((hugs))))))))))). Sorry I don't post much but i read Hope that you are feeling better soon. I know all about being clumsy i am too lol. I don't think that you are a slow healer this is a very difficult time of year for anyone who has lost a child. Hope that you will have some gentle days ahead.
((((((hugs))))))
Laura
dareldy04 (SBSL)

deadbabymama said...

Slow healer?! Not in a million years. Yeah, sit still. Say NO. Ask for some help. Cuddle Sam with your good wrist. And if you feel the least bit guilty about it take out the wet noodle and let Sam beat your wet, sore bum with it.

cat said...

There is no time limit on healing from loss. Mourning is a process a long rollercoaster of a process. I struggled with the not feeling bad for feeling bad. It's ok... it's needed. Anyone who tells you it's not or to get over it sooner just can't understand.

May you find peace in the midst of it all and acceptance that it is ok to mourn whatever way you need. *hugs that would be real ones if we lived close*

kate said...

((((((((((hugs)))))))))

I wouldn't call you a slow healer. Most of the time people's expectations of us after such a loss are not realistic.

And when you are shouldering so much pain all the time, just a little more can be just too much.

gabesmama said...

hug~~~~~~~~ lot's of love--Rebecca