Validation

Talking about how I’m doing helps me cope. When somebody I see regularly suddenly comments on how I seem to be doing or asks me how I’m doing, I feel better. It’s easy to feel alone in my position and when somebody lets me know that I’m not alone just because a period longer than a year has passed, I feel embraced, accepted and free to share my experiences.

I rode the train home with my boss this evening. She is an incredibly wonderful person who is very warm, unafraid to be herself, spirited and just plain adorable. We chit-chatted about many subjects and just a few moments before the train reached my stop, she asked me if I have noticed, since Chris died, that having time to do nothing is more difficult. Before I answered, she added that although she does not see me in my darkest moments, she thinks I am doing a remarkable job coping, considering the short amount of time since his death.

I replied that time alone is especially difficult when I am sick because of the isolation and my half drugged-out state from any cold medicines I ingest. I elaborated that having all of that time and a whole lot of tendency toward daydreaming/imagining causes my grief to multiply and wreak havoc.

Basically, I can daydream myself into believing that Chris is coming home tonight, that he'll walk through the door just like he used to. I can still hear my favorite sound, that of his keys turning the lock in the door and my brain enters a state of nirvana in which all is right with the world. Inevitably I come to, as I must, and realize that I have just been daydreaming. At that very moment, Chris dies all over again in my mind and a tidal wave pulls me into the grief undertow, slamming me around on the jagged rocks below and gashing me open, blood flowing out of me like scathing red tears.

Spending three days at home, sick, alone and having wonderful daydreams crash back into reality is exhausting business and, at times, returning to work can be more restful than resting in bed.

I need to talk about what happened. I need to talk about Chris. I need to talk about cancer. For some reason, I feel better when I talk to people who ask me out of curiosity and not out of obligation or for therapeutical reasons. I’m not sure why. For some reason, I’m able to talk to these people without crying, stating the facts of my situation and my fears without losing control.

People that talk to me matter-of-factly about what I have been through and what it was like and the worst of it and the start of it and the end of it make me feel as though I am being acknowledged. It happened. I don’t have to bury it with the passing of any certain stretch of time.

In just a few moments of conversation, my boss validated my feelings and my process.