I don’t think most mental health professionals support compartmentalizing emotions. However, as a way to get through the day, I pull out my “griefcase.” I am constantly in and out of it to examine and understand the following contents:
- My husband: Memories of love, laughter, and life…why so soon?
- Nicholas: I refuse to let him get caught in the mayhem as he has suffered a major loss as well. I’m trying to shift my focus onto him and tend to his needs more.
- Jazmine: She misses him but is finally to the point where I think she understands that he is in “the sky.” It just breaks my heart that she has to live without his gentle spirit. He was definitely a father figure to her.
- Ethan: I hope he believes (I have a feeling that they and their mom for that matter were told something contrary) that it was not my choice for them to leave. I pray he feels our love and uses it to help him endure
- Evan: My baby…I miss him…I truly hope that his time in treatment wasn’t in vain. I want him to know how much he is loved by us. I hope Evan knows how much we were looking forward to him coming home!!! I’m so sorry that he didn’t get to make it!!!
- Eliza: I have many hurt feelings about her. Call me naive but I thought I was making a breakthrough with her. How she was so willing to throw her own kids under the bus to punish me totally befuddles and saddens me. I feel like I have no closure because I was carelessly discarded when my husband died. Maybe I should try the letter writing thing where I get my feelings out and then don’t actually mail it.
- Her brother and sister: Oh my goodness, evil is alive and well! People never cease to amaze me! And they keep wanting to interact with me for some strange reason. Her brother called on Christmas Eve. Her sister called twice the day after Christmas. Neither the twisted sister or the demented brother will leave a message. I’m sure you can guess what the brother wants. Now the sister, who knows? Unfortunately, I am not stable enough at this point to converse nicely with these lovely people so I continue to ignore any attempts at communication. I just can’t tolerate any tomfoolery or malarkey.
- Me: It’s probably more of me stored in the griefcase than anything else. Am I still a stepmom I wonder frequently? What do I do with myself? I don’t want a new life–I liked the one I had. I’m still a wife it’s just that my husband is dead. Needless to say, I’m one mixed-up Ms.
- Our house: Of course everything is just as he left it, especially in the garage. The Mountain Dew that he was drinking is still in his cup holder. I don’t want to touch anything and I can’t bear to part with his stuff. I could try selling the house but I almost feel like I would be leaving him behind.
Coach should add the “griefcase” to their line-up–they would sell well!