Today was actually a fairly good day. Which, of course, I don't trust in the slightest. It's hard to let myself be OK with not being mostly sad. Having a good day without my wife feels immoral. It's like having a good at the cost of killing a panda. But my hands are completely devoid of panda blood. I checked. How can this be so?
If I have a good day, is somebody really gonna come around and tell me I'm being a bad person? I guess not. Just me. Why do I put that on myself? Is it because I feel like I'm betraying my wife? Is it because I feel like I don't deserve to feel good when she's dead? Is it because I think that karma went all topsy-turvy and if I'm having fun, it will come back to me as suffering? Actually, it's probably just due to the roiling cesspool of chemicals that is my grief-addled brain. Brain, you're not helping!
Against the advice of my brain, I'm admitting to the world that I had a good day. It hurts. But I'm not even ashamed of it, although I feel like I should be. Fuck grief for making me doubt enjoying myself. Fuck it hard and dry.
I deserve some time not feeling like shit. So, in this instance, I'm telling my brain he's wrong. He can be a stubborn fool sometimes. But he's wise enough to recognize it. Stubborn and foolish yet wise? I think I have a donkey brain...
...Assbrain. It doesn't have to be an insult! God, I love English.
I think accepting that being happy is not a betrayal is a really tough lesson. We're supposed to be all sad and greify all the time right? Well fuck that! She wouldn't want you to be sad forever. If you're having a good day then she is smiling with you.
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I think accepting that being happy is not a betrayal is a really tough lesson. We're supposed to be all sad and greify all the time right? Well fuck that! She wouldn't want you to be sad forever. If you're having a good day then she is smiling with you.
ReplyDeleteFuchsia