I've been feeling incredibly down since Sunday. I was plugging along, but somewhere along the line while getting ready that morning I was hit with this strong feeling of deja-vu that reminded me of getting ready the morning of Nick's funeral. The I-have-to-go-put-on-a-good-face-for-all-of-these-people-even-though-I-feel-like-running-away-to-cry feeling. So I put on my brave face, but once we were there, actually inside, and there were people that came... I did not trust myself to speak, not hardly a word, for fear that I'd just completely lose my shit.
Oops, that's a swear. Meh.
But my instincts were right, because once I had to talk to the very nice woman who introduced us and we did the live shot-- yes, my ugly mug up there, larger than life, on the Jumbotron, encouraging folks to donate blood to help people like Nick and advertising this silly little endeavor-- once I got through that? I did lose my shit. Completely.
It's not like I thought that doing this would bring my brother back. But maybe I thought that the catharsis could help to serve as a kind of grief capstone, subconsciously clinging to the notion that we'd have this event, and... transition to the next phase of Dealing With It.
Of course not. Things never work out the way you think or hope or wish they will. Life isn't a move that wraps everything up with a tidy bow, at least not if you're from my little patch of gene pool. Instead of a capstone, I feel like the scab of grief has been ripped off and the wound bleeds anew. Something about realizing that this was indeed likely the last time any number of these friends and family would be gathered for something around my brother, it just completely demolished whatever sense of healing I might have had.
Sigh.
Given my mood, let's wrap this in old skool LJ style with some song lyrics.
What happened to you, what happened to you?
One more tear that you won't hear, has gone and passed you by
What happened to you, what happened to you?
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