DENIAL
The day has arrived. I am home with my mom. It is…really here. I am really here. This will be quite the week. But let’s start with what I told you I was going to look into –
Denial. I am beginning my grieving process at Denial, or so says the 5 Stages of Grief. Denial has been my constant survival technique. I know this step well. I am very comfortable here.
According to the always trustworthy Internets, the stage of Denial exists because it “helps us to survive the loss.” True, Internets. True. I have been on this stage for two years now.
I surprised my mom for her birthday. When I walked in through the garage door and into the kitchen, she jumped up and down and hugged me, then she pulled back and looked at me carefully, saying “I thought you’d at least do your hair.” (I had just done my hair for a wedding…it’s as “done” as it ever will be.) Yes, ladies and gentlemen, she has a lot of opinions. After I gave her a tolerant smile and said, “It’s nice to see you, too,” I pretended she didn’t say that. Denial.
I proceeded to eat some take out I found on the counter before she abruptly said, “It’s possible to have a real job, you know. You could still get a normal job. You could work. It is a possibility.” I ignored this, as well. Denial #2. After she said that, I started chewing on my nails because what else could I do? She immediately smacked my hand away from my mouth and said sarcastically, “well that’s attractive.” I told her that I didn’t care about being attractive, but she said that I should care and I should “stop cannibalizing myself.” I asked her, “then what am I supposed to do?” She didn’t have a good suggestion…
Then the opinions/questions/judgments progressed to “when are you getting married?” and “aren’t you going to have a wedding?” and “are you just going to end up alone?” And this was in the first hour and a half of being here. I told her I plan to end up with my dog. So, needless to say, it’s going well.
I don’t know why anyone moves on from this stage. Except my fingers hurt a lot from biting the nails down below the quick.
Day 15 – Denial is in full swing and also my mom…
A Year to Grieve 