Saturday, October 9, 2010


What if I don't want to get over it? What if I don't ever want to get to the point where it's OK that he's gone? It's not OK, and it'll never be OK. 'Cause it isn't. It's just fucking wrong, on all levels.

That's what my Inner Brat* is saying today.

She pops up from time to time, crossing her arms over her chest, pouting and stomping her feet. She whines a lot. She balks at things that any normal adult would handle without a second thought. (Key word there is "adult".) She's the reason I couldn't change a toilet paper roll for the first fifteen (twenty?) years of my first marriage.

I am not making that up. Yeah, she's got issues.

We've been working on them, especially over the past four years since my first marriage ended. We've made progress. It was hard, trying to sort through old shit while jumping into a new relationship almost before the ink on the divorce decree was dry, but we continued to hack away at the stack and even made some small progress.

However, she's not handling this latest crisis very well. I realized the other day that legally I am no longer married. Talk about a bitch slap! I think that's what got her all riled up.

One thing my Dear Counselor told me recently is that I need to listen to her. She's a valid (albeit slightly dysfunctional) part of me, and she needs to have her voice heard. She needs to be reassured. However, I have to admit, this time I think she may be on to something. I'm not sure this hurt can be soothed with a few pats on the back and pints of Ben & Jerry's. Although that never hurts.

Rest assured that Grownup Me knows that all the comforting things my dear friends IRL and in Cyberspace are saying are absolutely correct: Time will pass and pain will fade. Things will get sorted out and I'll find my way to the New Normal, rev. 4.0.

But it still won't be OK that he's gone. It will never be OK. And right now I can't imagine ever being OK with it.

* See the photo, top left sidebar? Yeah, that's her.


  1. Well... I think she's adorable and I hope you never lose her. She's going to help get you through this next couple of years... and the rest of your life.

    I remember a gal in our ward years ago who shared a story about her grief process after losing her husband. She talked about how he'd been the one to work in the garden, weeding, mowing,etc. She said she went through such intense anger for quite awhile and when she had to weed it was as if each and every weed was an affront... a reminder of her loss of him. Her anger and frustration would really come out when she had to do that job.

    I've been thinking about you and checking your blogs pretty regularly... I'm glad you posted. I don't blame you a bit for feeling enraged at the turn of events in your life since this spring. It all happened so fast, there has not been much time to process or prepare for him to be gone so soon... and it's NEVER okay for someone you love to be gone. He will always be missed.

    I loved the photos of him you posted on Facebook... it was interesting to see him during his formative years and up until you got together. As short as it was and as painful as it is to love and lose him... I'm glad you had that time together. Personally, I believe he's probably near to you during this difficult time and has some awareness of what you are dealing with.

  2. I couldn't say anything better than what Kathy said. I just want you to know I am caring about you.

  3. Amen! The picture you painted with your "Mr. B sized hole" was spot on...Over time we will fill our lives with lot's of stuff that will distract us from that hole but it will always be there...I'm no counselor, I'm just saying.

  4. You're right. It will never be OK and it will never stop hurting but in time it will hurt less. As for that inner brat, just give in to her. She's there to protect and comfort you. And so what if she doesn't always do the adult thing? Who says you have to? Mr. B. died. You loved him. It sucks and it hurts. Let that little girl have her way.

  5. I have been SUCH a healthier person since I met and accepted my inner brat. She has much less control over my life now, and I don't send her to her room every single time she pops out. Sometimes she has a bright little insight, and sometimes she's just a brat. But she's MY brat. Give her a hug and tell her she's OK, and you're OK. Love you both.

  6. Some days Bossy's inner brat isn't so inner.


Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.