Now a Different Stage of Grief

Now after 4 months, I slipped into a different and worse grief. Writing about Kuma, thinking about Kuma was my way of spending time with her. Meditating daily and dreaming about Kuma every night brought me some peace. But in the last 2 weeks, I'm losing it, it's slipping away and not feeling is even worse than feeling.

I kept everything the same and I could imagine Kuma doing the things she did. I still put water out for her twice a day and imagine her drinking it. I kept the bed exactly the same with her pillow beside me and imagine her there. I slice up pieces of cheese and birng it to her as if she is still is still enjoying it. I eat it for her so she can taste it.

But, with time, I start feeling that my grieving is just stupid, a waste of time and an excuse to not do something else. I feel Kuma slipping away. I don't feel the urge to wirte about her, to meditate and I don't dream about her like before. I can't stop it. Kuma is slipping away and I can't hold onto her. Whatever belief that I held onto about finding Kuma or understanding if her consciousness may still be alive is giving way to another belief that I am just being plain stupid and dillusional. It is an inbetween state of wanting to know if Kuma is alive somehow and feeling hopeless and cynical.

The Inbetween

For the past 3 years taking care of Kuma was my purpose. Serving Kuma gave meaning to my day and being with Kuma, just holding her and hearing her breath was my enjoyment. It was the simplest of life and time stood still. I was needed. Kuma needed me to live and I needed her to live.

After Kuma was killed, I held on to her memory and my purpose was still to spend time with her in my head. I didn't choose to do this, I had to do this. I was the only thing I wanted and needed to do. It was extremely painful but in the pain I was in some way united with her and Kuma was still my purpose.

But as Kuma slips away, I am losing my purpose. Without thinking about Kuma, my days are empty beyond belief. Yet, there is nothing else I want to do. It is this inbetween time that is without purpose, without motivation, without direction or any kind of desire or enjoyment. There is nothing I want to do and I do nothing.

Ahead of me is marching into a grey materialistic world void of any real feelings.

Friends and Family

I have had virtually no outside contact with friends in the last 3 years. I have reunited with my mother and family.

But, right after Kuma died, only a few friends acknowledged my grief and contacted me. My neighbour came over to hug me and a friend drove over to just stand beside me while I talked and cried. My mother listened on the phone. My daughter called and listened for two hours. My training partners stood by me and tolerated me. My powerlifting friends called me.

Now 4 months later I sort through who my real friends are. Who understood and cared enough to see that I was going through the worst crises in my life. Who believed how much Kuma means to me and that I need time to adjust and heal. Who stood by me knowing who I am and that this is temporary. Who knows how much I have helped and cared for others all my life and that this is the first time that I need help. Who trusts that what I am going through is what I need to go through and that with support I may make it through. Who knows who I was before this and believes that I am still the same person. Who believed in me before and still believes in me now.

And on the other side, who believes that because I am down that I will never get up again. Who believes that because I am not outwordly doing anything that I am not trying to heal on the inside. Who believes that because I am not working and making money that I am worthless and will never be of value. Who believes that I am lazy and will never do anything. Who believes that this stage of my life is permanent and that I am mentally weak. Who looks at me like I am fragile and something is wrong in my head. Who believes that I should just snap out of this and stop wasting time grieving.

Why is it that I feel friends who understand the pain I am going through, who stand with me with companssion in my pain and who continue to respect me for who I am are mostly my powerlifting friends. And why do I feel like my family closest to me are the first to trample on me when I am down.

I am having a hard enough time to search for hope, belief and strength to learn to live through this. I may make it, I may not. But when I do, I will know the handful of friends who stood by me.