Nov 18, 2010

It's been almost a year. And over the last 12 months I have tried at least 1200 times to write about Dennis. But every time I started, I would find it impossible to carry on. Found it way too overwhelming to go on. I would start out with a happy thought about him...and in no time, bam! I could see those last few days and I was a goner. I would think, okay, it's been x months now, surely I'm more in control. Every single time I thought that, I would disappoint myself by breaking down. Looking back, it almost seems like set pattern. (Think about Dennis - feel thankful about the good times - start to pen down something about him - be reminded of his death - cry myself to sleep). But it wasn't. Every time, I was as surprised by my reaction as always. The frequency of the crying spells reduced...the intensity did not. I hardly talked about this. Whenever I did talk about Dennis, it was with a wistful smile and a complete lack of pain. I don't know why it was so easy to talk about his life in someone's company...and so impossible to even think about him when I was alone.
It's still the same. And lately, those last 3-4 days keep running through my mind. Very vivid images. I remember what I wore. I remember when I slept. I remember the song playing on the radio. It still isn't easy to talk about that time. But I have spoken to A and M about it. And even talked about the whole thing in a counselling practice session. It doesn't make things easier. Sure, it is wonderful to know that there are people who care. Yet, I know no one will know. And it isn't anybody's fault. My pain is my own. My guilt is my own. No one else can see my memories...how will they ever understand?!
In which case, why, you may think, am I writing this at all? I wanted the post to be about Dennis. But it ended up being about me. What does that say about me and my belief that grief is very personal, no one really knows what someone else is going through? Well yes, I still believe that no one will know my pain the way I do. But now, after having spoken about it, I also believe that shutting people out isn't the best way to deal with it. They wouldn't know till you tell them what it is like. You might not have the words right now, but try. And it will help them get closer to your reality. Help you to understand your pain better. And eventually, maybe in some tiny little way, make the pain grow dimmer. 'Coz that's what we really want, isn't it? At least that is what I want. I want to remember him fondly, not with remorse. And I never ever want to forget him or 'get over him'.