Go forth and live

I only dream in shades of gray these days.  Life seems to have taken on a hue less colorful than before.  I struggle to comprehend what I'm feeling, where I'm going, what I'm doing.  Has some part of me lost its way?

It seems that just a few short months ago I was mourning Derek's passing.  I lamented the loss of such a good friend, the horrible pain and anguish he went through in his last few years, the heartache I knew his family was feeling, and, even if somewhat selfishly, the emptiness I felt without him around.

I have struggled to get through it all.  There are times even now when I cannot help but think of Derek, perhaps in some context with The Kids, perhaps because of something I see or read in the news, or perhaps only because I enjoyed spending time with him and miss him so.

It has been almost four months since he died, yet it's like I'm waiting for time to fix some part of me that keeps on breaking.

Most of my own anguish has been caused by guilt — guilt for being upset about the whole situation just a few short months before he passed away, guilt about the uncontrollable anger I've felt for many reasons, and guilt about calling his family when Derek had made me promise time and again not to.

Guilt is a funny thing.  There's nothing so bad that you can't add a little guilt to it to make it worse.  There's nothing so good that you can't add a little guilt to it to make it better.

But guilt distracts us from the greater truth of what we're feeling.  That is what makes it such a powerful weapon, something a limited few members of Derek's family have attempted on me.

It's sad.  As if I hadn't already been through enough and hadn't already suffered long and hard just to take care of Derek during his last years, some misguided souls from his family have made it their quest in life to place all the blame at my feet — the blame for Derek's situation and the blame for their own absence from his care for the two years before he died.

It angers me.  It's a betrayal of Derek's legacy and life.  Empty promises of understanding and shallow attempts to betray what it is to be human simply make the situation worse.  The most offensive aspect is that these same people are breaking promises they made to Derek in his last days just so they can throw their own guilt in my direction.

But that is blindness caused by guilt.

Life is already a confusing deluge of events and people.  From our perspective, it can be confusing and overwhelming.  I like to think that from the best perspectives, though, life… everything… even death… makes sense.

Life is not just a kaleidoscope of sensory and emotional overload.  We're all connected.  It's beautiful.  It's funny.  It's scary.  And it's good.

Sometimes it doesn't make sense from our perspective here in the heart of life where we seem to have no control.

Despite these things, however, we humans have an inherent ability to heal ourselves.  We seem intent on living through even the worst heartaches and anguish.  How?  Practice.

Life is about living, something even I myself have written about before and know in my heart.

I need to find a way to get past this.

4 thoughts on “Go forth and live”

  1. I think, IMVHO, the way to get past it Sweetie, is to talk about it. I don’t think there’s another way. And time. But talk about it. Talk about your feelings, talk about what you are going through, it helps work through that and it helps others in your life support you. Afterall, another human, limited as we are, we cannot always intuit what someone needs, even someone we love and are close to (we think), talking helps work through the emotions and helps you clarify your own feelings, which may be muddled. And taking time for yourself, which I know you’ve not had lately, so trying to carve out time is important, but I think talking (or writing) is something I have always found to be a crucial part of healing. When talking maybe isn’t available (don’t laugh), write. Write out how you feel, write like you may want to talk, but get it out. I hope that made sense

  2. I agree.  I know it works and it has helped me with this.  I'm afraid I may have been less than clear in my post (mainly because I was so sick at the time that I rambled — oh, but I do that anyway…).  What I was referring to when I said I needed to find a way to get past it is the issue with Derek's family.

    No, I'm not over his death.  In fact, I hope I never will be.  Anger is more useful than despair as it urges us to action, so my anger over all of it is something I need to ensure I never become complacent about this disease.  This isn't rage-filled anger but is the low, thrumming anger deep inside which quietly reminds me that this was an unnecessary loss.  Sorrow reminds us that we are human and that we love and feel loss, so I need my sorrow as it helps to define who I am and to remind me of what I've lost.  Pain teaches us lessons about action or inaction (whether by ourselves or others), so I need my pain to teach me what it is to really love and lose someone (regardless of what form that love takes — platonic, sexual, romantic, passionate, familial, affectionate, and so on).

    The guilt is the problem.  I have my own guilt about this situation (for the self-imposed things, of course, as there is no one on this planet who can find blame in anything I did with regards to Derek).  What I don't need is the guilt from those few members of his family who, unbeknownst to the rest of the family and in direct contradiction to Derek's legacy (and, in one case, a promise the family member made to Derek), have decided to place all of their guilt on my plate so they don't have to face it.

    It's disturbing to see how duplicitous they are.  I feel betrayed by it, but more importantly, I feel it is a horrific betrayal of Derek.  It's shameful.

    My post was more about needing to let go of my anger about that, needing to dismiss it altogether as the vile, malevolent actions of a few people who, despite their public lamentations and declarations to the contrary, did not love Derek at all.  No one in their right mind, if they had one true shred of love for him, would ever blame me for his condition and death or his family's absence during his final years.  Both of these things were Derek's choosing.

    It's shameful and revolting.

    But I need to move beyond it.  I did everything I could for Derek regardless of the negative impact to myself and my own life.  I will not be the whipping boy for this shameless minority of loathsome, spiteful hypocrites.

    That's what I need to get past.

  3. And talk about it. That’s the best way to get past this as well. You did a terrific job right there, but you need to keep doing it. I knew the post was to them, it was about the post that was made before by someone, and you need to keep talking/writing about your feelings about that and related things that may stem from that. That’s how to let go of this guilt and anger, to move on, you never want to stop feeling anger about AIDS, no, that we don’t want to do because that anger fuels the actions we can take now and in future. But talk about how you feel now, write, talk, get it out

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