I am just so god damn tired. Everything takes a ridiculous, enormous amount of energy. A simple trip to the store, getting a haircut, many times just getting out of bed in the first place. It is exhausting. The first death anniversary I went into a block. The second has felt like a second knock out punch when I'm still in the critical care unit from the first one 2 years ago. I haven't even begun to recover. Just struggle to survive. I'm fighting for a life I've given up on.

Taking a big step back from my academics I had feelings of boredom. I fought/avoided it because the way I was interpreting it was I needed more to do when I knew without doubt that was not the case. Finally accepting that feeling I realized it was not stemming from needing more to do, it was stemming from how just nothing fucking matters anymore. Nothing means a god damn thing. It was then I realized why many times when I'm trying to get away from it all by the internet, tv, whatever the action and it's just not working, my mood would crash and burn faster than I could understand. There are now 3 layers instead of 2. Meaningless to boredom to even more meaningless bullshit I'm giving mind to.

I hate spring. Spring is symbolic of new life. Spring is the time of year my life fucking died. Never before in my life has the days getting longer affected me but this year, it was brutal. I'm not sure I even can describe what I was feeling. Like a massive beat down how the world has continued to turn. A new season. A new year. Starting year three of my hell. I just can't believe it. Not only do I hate spring, I hate December to March. But really, I just hate it all.

The smallest, most remote, illusionary part of me wants to want to care. In a rare moment even tries. But it's all just smoke and mirrors. A poem found recently I have put my spin on: (I do this with any poem that speaks to me.)

Caring About Not Caring:

The things I used to care about

I no longer do

yet the most slightest, ghostly fraction of myself

wants to want to care

that I don't care

about the things

I used to care about

At 37, there is just so much of this left. So much longer I will likely have to endure. I think it's a rip off one can kill themselves slowly by drugs, obesity, or other lifestyle choices but to do it in one fell swoop is "wrong" when the only difference is time. And if you want to get down a rabbit hole, time doesn't even exist anyway.

Some normals would say I need to find something (other than my cat) that can have meaning for me. Just something to invest back into life. Yea, and where the FUCK is that energy going to come from. This is NOT something I'm making a choice of. NOT something I can just flip the switch on. This is beyond me. Which then takes me back to the beginning ... and it doesn't matter. No matter what I do, he's still gone. And that's what's wrong.

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Comment by morgan on May 2, 2017 at 11:24pm

Wow!  I don't know how I missed your initial post rachel-micele but seeing it and the responses tonight I can only say after four years and three months since my husbands death I concur.  I am too tired tonight to write and normally like everyone has written I have so little energy, motivation and ascribe no value to this charade called "life" so that when I read posts like this I have to say to myself.......why is it so?  Why are we even in this position?  What in the cosmos is written that people like us are tasked with having to live this out until whenever?  I think the only thing I can say is I can appreciate that when I read how others are feeling the exact same feelings as me at various stages of this damnable grief I realize that I am not crazy.  That this is an actual manifestation for many people who lose the love of their life.  That I don't have to accommodate myself to how some people think I should be.  That I would definitely celebrate if i found out I had a terminal illness.  I plead to the stars each and every time I cry (which is still daily) to take me.  Let me out.  The notion I have to continue without him in my life is just not acceptable.  Not real  I have tried everything to make it different but nothing works.  I feel just like what I just read in your posts and I can only thank you for letting me know how you are dealing with this constant assault on the brains cognition of loss.  For many of us their death could have been yesterday.  The coping continues......different, but continues......exhausting and painful as it is....

Comment by rachel_micele on May 2, 2017 at 8:12pm

Biological family is supposed to be the one entity you can count on, huh Jane. It is royally fucked up when the reality of it is so completely the opposite.

Oh Eva, the month of March I would guess is just plain evil for you. I too looked up the word "grief" in Websters dictionary and was very dissatisfied with the definition. My definition is living in 3 places at once - The foreign planet of grief, this planet as a ghost, and the moment back in time when everything changed connecting only to the last.

So sorry to both of you.

Comment by Jane on April 23, 2017 at 6:17pm

I'm sorry, I feel the same. Today would be my Dad's 84th birthday.  We lost him 49 years ago!!!!!!!  Isn't that unbelievable.  I was 5yo, he died from a sudden heart attack at 34yo... leaving our dear Mom widowed with 5 kids in 1968.  Our Mom was our rock, for the rest of life. We lost her 2.5 years ago and my life crumbled... and I'm still a mess... a shell of what I used to be.  I miss her every single damn day.  I can't go on... I just want to die.  I pray for cancer, I pray for a fatal car crash, but sadly I am still here.   I don't care about anything anymore.  My sister and older brother have estranged themselves from me for reasons they believe to be good reasons, and more power to them.. God forbid if I hated someone as much as they hated me, I would not want them in my life.. so thank God I am no longer in their life.. I guess you could say I did them a favor when I waved the white flag and said "I quit fighting, I get it, you don't love me, I'll move on", and I have. I hope they are happy... I'm sorry I spent so many years chasing their love, what a waste.  I have one brother who I talk to.. thank God if it wasn't for him, I'm sure I'd hang myself.  I am married... but even a husband can't fix this mess.  I hate life, I have no more energy... I muster it up to get things done.. but honestly, if I got a cancer diagnosis tomorrow, I'd celebrate.

Comment by Eva Van on April 23, 2017 at 5:23pm

Tired of being tired...tired of not caring...too tired to care

You give voice to what has been my life for the past 6 years...I lost my husband to cancer March 26th 2011 and my daughter to a car accident March 16th 2014...

No matter what I have tried to pull myself out, it is the fact that they are gone...and we miss them...and it hurts. The world keeps spinning, time moves on, and you feel as if you are in limbo...unable to move...

Burdened with grief...burdened with guilt...burdened with time

I watch others and wish to join the "normals" as you call it...I resent that I am no longer such a one. That though I can enjoy a sunset...laugh at a joke...wish others well...I feel very dead inside. Like walking through a movie in which you are but an extra. I cringe at every cliche..

they are ridiculous to me now... all imply hope, which after being on this planet 50 years I do not feel possible. I wish to delete terms from the dictionary

Hope

Trust

Fair

All hold fairy tale meanings with little root in reality...

If I were to put a  realistic definition to grief, which is defined as deep sorrow in the dictionary,

 it would be... a deep feeling of soul wrenching misery which like a parasite draws the very life from you.

For now, after six years, I often stop and listen to myself breathe...and wonder why I am.

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