Weirdness. Is it weird that I share my emotions? Is it weird that I can't stop posting on my husband's facebook page because I am scared that this is yet another way that I am leaving him? Is it weird? Is it weird that I know every person on my contact list either in person or from stories that he has told me about this one or that one? Is it weird?
Well, my thought about that, and I have come to the conclusion, is that I don't care if it is weird. I have decided through much help from supportive friends and family (read: those who know me well) that if I want to do that, I can. That is WHO I am. I am an open person. I am a nearly "read through me" person. I am transparent. When I am dying on the inside, I can't hide it. Even from complete strangers. When I am thrilled, I can't hide it. Even from close friends when I am trying really, really hard. I can't hide it. So, why try? Why should I try?
Why I should try. I should try because I don't want the things that I am doing or saying to interfere with other people's lives. People don't want to see others hurting, except those select few that seem to find comfort in the pain of others. I am not worried about them. I am worried about the people that my words to my husband in a not so private manner are hurting. Trust me, I am not wanting to hurt them. With that being said, I am going to try to mute stuff. But, as I said above, I am transparent. I don't know if it is a blessing or a curse. Blessing because I don't generally ask for help (although April might counter that. :) ). Curse, because I am so transparent, and my thoughts and feelings may offend others. "Why do you care what other people think?"
That is a tough one. No, it's not. I can explain it how I explained it to April, although it was not in that particular context. I want people to see me as Matt saw me. I want them to know why he loved me. Maybe that is an extension of the fact that I want those who love Matt to love me too? I guess it doesn't matter. I can't please everyone. I will never be able to please everyone at the same time no matter what. ~That is SO much easier said than done, to break the habit to want that... Anyway. I don't want anyone to see me as ugly. I don't mean ugly in the physically ugly way. I mean it in showing the anger, fear and rage that I am having right now. I am not an angry, fearful or raging person, so these are tough to deal with. Especially the anger. I used to get mad and "rage" briefly for stupid stuff. Very insignificant stuff as I now see it. But, to actually be angry? To actually feel hate or almost hate? Never. I suppose even now, it cools down to less than hate, less than almost hate, but the fact that I am actually, most definitely feeling absolute, most definite HATE, even for a brief period, is something new for me. Never in my life have I had that. Now I can say I have experienced it. Its short lived, but I have experienced it. I don't like that. I don't want that, and I don't want to change in to that person. Uh. Where was I? Oh, caring about what people think. I don't want to change from the person that Matt loved me as. Of course, there is going to be a "new" me. Ugh. I seriously dislike that thought. How will he remember me or know me if I change in to a new me?
I know everyone else is over this. At least somewhat. Those that don't know me or our family and those closest to the situation- they have moved on with it. I am lingering hurt in others by continuing to be transparent. BUT, I can't change who I am, and I won't change who I am. So, I apologize that those who are hurt or "reminded" by my transparency are letting my healing hurt them. That goes back, sort of, to the fact that some people find comfort in the hurting of others. If their comfort is to be angry at me for my healing process, I can't help them. But I can't not heal to try to help them. I will mute, but only mute.
Privacy. I have lots of privacy. I have lots of things that I talk to him about. Just me and him. I feel that he is answering me, although not in the manner I would like. I feel that he is answering me as when I ask him something, or talk to him about something, a memory pops in to my head that answers my question, explains to me the way that he would explain it. Seemingly, it is in his voice, and probably in the exact words that he said before, just applying to other situations. I see a snapshot of his facial expression as it would apply to the particular situation. That is helpful. And there, to me, he is Transparent. To me. That is stuff that only those that I choose to tell will know. Some things no one will ever know. But me and him.
Healing. How does one heal from losing the very person that made the dreams of life happen? That is not meant to sound overdramatic, as I know it does. HE was the other half to giving US a family together. HE was the other half of the WE that were going to make an eco-friendly home somewhere in the beautiful mountains someday, and HE was the other half of keeping me focused, while I was the other half of keeping HIM focused, on our goals. HE was the other half of US. He IS the other half. We didn't have a long time together, but we did know that.
In Graduate School, my professor told me one day "Only She who attempts the absurd can achieve the impossible", which is a quote by Robin Morgan, a radical feminist. I don't consider myself a radical feminist by any means, but definitely a feminist (for COMPLETE equality, as even after 7 years out of graduate school, I still have to explain that feminist means equal, not some bra burner who is trying to make a man's life a living hell- I digress). Anyway, that is a quote that has gotten me through rough, rough times in my life, and I have no doubt that it will be stronger now than ever. If I don't attempt the absurd, how am I going to achieve my goals, our goals? How does anyone achieve any goals without attempting the strange, the out of the box? And not only that, how does one achieve anything by not looking around to find the most people-friendly way? The way that will benefit the most. It may be more work, but WE helped others. Some of the ideas WE had together were very, very absurd. And so we laughed. He loved my "absurd". My crazy thoughts. My "interesting" way of looking at things. And HE participated, actively, in my Absurd. It made us Fun. It made us...US. How does one do US alone? Not sure...yet. And, luckily, I am not alone. There are so many people who make up little pieces of him and of me and of us. I can find him. And I can find us. I just have to look in absurd places.
So, I embrace Weird, Transparent and Absurd.