I had planned on writing this in couple weeks after the fifth month of having my life turned upside down. There was no sense in waiting because I don’t think I’ll feel much different then, than I do now. Carol has had the “Mommy blues” that last few days. I have had overwhelming waves of sadness the last few days. Those horrid seven words come to mind on an almost daily basis, “Are you the parents of Sheena Blair?”.
I try hard to not dwell on our loss, I get up every day and do what I’m supposed to do. Some days it’s almost robotic, some days feel almost “normal” People ask if some days are better than others. I tell them that it’s more like some days suck less than others. This is NOT getting easier. It is NOT going away. The first couple months, some “things” or some kind of trigger would set me off. Like Sheena’s stuff or a benchmark day. Now I get sad for no particular, specific reason. These God Damn sunny days get to me. We used to pack up the family and the dogs and go places. We still do, not as much, but it’s not the same. I wish it would rain. I wish for thunderstorms, but that would rain on everyone else.
I DO have ways to cope. I can write. I can beat my drum and pray for strength. I can also vent through two 15″ JBL D140Fs and a 100 watt 42 year old bass amp. I can turn it WAY up and just hit an open E chord and let it sustain. It’s like screaming, but it doesn’t hurt your voice. I can bang out speed metal riffs over and over. It’s cleansing. OR I can turn on the chorus and play melodic, lyrical phrases, it’s soothing.
One thing I am NOT doing is self-medicating. Thank God. I am NOT making any major decisions. For the first time in memory, I am avoiding crowds. I don’t know when a wave of sadness will come, I have NO control over my emotions. I allow myself to be sad, I don’t force stoicism. When I write, I try to be honest and not hyperbolic or self-indulgent. When people ask how I’m doing I try to NEVER say “fine” because I am NOT fine. For the first time in my life, I cry more than I laugh.
I AM starting to re-engage. Slowly. I have broadcast every week since this thing happened. I haven’t been to many Democratic meeting s in a while. I plan on starting to attend again soon. I work more and I hide less. We have gone through most of Sheena’s stuff. We made it through Mother’s day and Father’s day. JESUS, did THAT suck. We saw the alleged perpetrator face to face. I help Luis with his medical stuff. I am in the midst of developing a couple of projects. I DO stuff. I have friends to talk to. Sheena’s service showed us that a LOT of people care about us.
I miss Sheena more than I thought possible. I allow myself to grieve. I do my best to not wallow in it or obsess. If I did, I wouldn’t be able to function at all and if I didn’t physically force myself to go out and do stuff, I could easily sink into a deep depression that could lead to a catatonic mental paralysis. I can’t do that, I have responsibilities. Amy for one, my own health for another. Besides, the alleged perpetrator got one of us, that’s ALL she gets.
So that’s how I’m doing. For those of you who think I’m all strong and stuff, I appreciate the sentiment, but I actually feel like a scared man struggling to maintain my grip. I feel like a gelatinous mass of sorrow. I was sitting on my front porch yesterday and saw a little red car drive down 80th street. For a split second, I thought “Sheena’s home”, I catch myself doing that once in a while. It hurts….again. This is all normal I’ve been told, but it doesn’t make it easier. It’s not supposed to be easy,it’s not.