Sunday, September 01, 2013

This is about anger, and how change affects people. If you aren't interested in walking the entire grief journey, and only want to hear the sorrowful, gentle parts- stop reading here. This is not sorrowful, or gentle.

I had many more friends, once upon a time.

I liked people more too.

When my life was different.

In "then". 

I was told recently that I had lost perspective. That I seem to see life only from my own point of view. 

I am not certain who's perspective I am supposed to be viewing life from. Like everyone else, my perspective is based on my life and my actions directed by my previous mistakes, experiences, and successes. There is no such being as a purely objective person. (Often the people who cry the loudest about objectivity are those who were scarred the most deeply by experience, and live out their experiences to the detriment of those around them by way of being completely unable to bend from their own rigid views.)

I can not "rise above" my loss and I can not see how other people view my reactions- because that would require that I look at how things would be if she had never happened, and I will not imagine how my life would be if I had not held her- and when it is written out like that in real words it becomes even more imperative that I try to make people understand- I am not who I was. 

I will never be who I was again.

That person left. 

She is not here any more.  

I held her, and that changed everything.

I have no patience. I have insomnia. I forget what I'm saying in the middle of a sentence. I live distractedly, no matter how much I try to live intentionally. I can not argue or debate. I don't have the ability to look deeply inside of myself. 

I have very, very little empathy for most adults. Because everything that they're  going through is less terrible than me holding my dead daughter. I just don't have it in me any longer. 

Which perspective am I supposed to change? 

The perspective from which I view the world as a hostile place because the majority of people believe that I shouldn't really be allowed this sadness? After all I knew that she was going to die. Its not like it was an accident. 

The perspective from which I view human beings as so ridiculously sacred because they are created by a loving God for their purpose, and because of this I love those humans that are different, just a little but more?

The perspective that shows me that all of these angers and hurts that seem to plague people today are really not as bad as people think they are? 

Your life is good if you haven't had a dead child in your arms.

Which perspective is it that's wrong? 

Which perspective will fit into this place that you breath in? 

I won't suit myself to suit you. It's part of my brutal honesty, new-self. It's not a cruel thing on my part although it may seem cruel to you. It's just what is. A basic survival of the fittest type of thing. Because I can't look too deeply into myself, I can't look more deeply into other's motivations. I don't want to explore why people do A, B, and C. Just stop doing A, B, or C. Or continue doing it- I don't care, just leave me out of the reasons why. Because there is no motivation that is going to be more compelling to me than, "I held me dead daughter in my arms." 

I know that this seems so nasty. Self-centered and rude. It's not meant that way though- truly. It's self defense, self respect, self preservation. 

Every night, every single ever-loving night, when I lie down to go to sleep, I am stuck in that room. That room holding her quiet lifeless body in my arms. 

You try to explain to me that you could wake up from that horror show every morning and be able to empathize with someone who is complaining about their hair not turning out just right after a salon visit. Try telling me, again, why I should care about your hangover, or how fanatically you feel about your dog/hampster/parakeet. 

My daughter died, in my arms. She stopped breathing as I told her I loved her. I watched her life slip from her body- so quickly. 

In the split second that she hovered between here and there, I saw eternity. 

There is nothing- nothing- that has ever affected my life and my perspective more than this. 

You can choose to take me as I am, or turn away because I do not have the capabilities to cater to your petty, insignificant dramas. Thats a decision you need to make for yourself. I refuse to moderate my personality to fit into your comfort zone. Moderation would mean leaving all that I have become in the last three years. And that's just not going to happen.

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