Have you ever watched a horror film? You know, the kind with a Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers, or even one of those darn scary clowns? The ridiculous teenage characters running from the villain run at top speed but the scary bad dude catches up to them by walking. The faster they run the sooner they are caught. And you, the movie watcher, know what's coming and yet you jump every time the clown pops up out of nowhere. Well, I think that the grief is the scary bad dude. No matter how fast I run he will catch me. And he will inflict some kind of harm.
So, why do I run? Why don't I just turn around and face it? I'm not sure what the answer is. I guess I think that I am the star in this horror show and I will be the one left standing in the end. I will be the one person that the bad guy isn't going to catch.
Now running isn't the only defense I have against grief. Angry Me seems to help sometimes. I hate using him, but he does have his place. Sometimes it feels good to let Angry Me have his way. He screams. He cries an ugly cry. He sometimes throws things. And, occasionally, if left to his own accord, he makes stupid decisions. But all in all he has his place. The problem with Angry Me is that he doesn't care who he hurts. HULK SMASH. For that reason I try to only release Angry Me when I am alone because you wouldn't like me when I'm angry.
Another defense I have is distraction. This is where my friends and family come in. They are the best at providing me with distractions. I enjoy meals, sporting events, conversations, and even Mario Kart races and Tiger Woods golf video games. Distractions are usually activities with people I find dear. But not always. I go to sporting events. I've even tried retail therapy (but I can't seem to really buy much because I still feel like I'm supposed to run it past my wife first).
Most recently I stood in the face of an oncoming tsunami. It's beginnings came during a recent grocery shopping trip. I now understand why my wife hated going alone after our daughter passed. I failed to make a proper list so I found myself going through several aisles looking for something that I'm sure I would forget since I didn't have a complete list. I went into the store for five things and came out with twenty and a hundred dollars poorer. I got things I didn't really need and still failed to get things I did need. What I really needed was my wife telling me what to get for her. What I really needed was my wife to be thankful for going with her and entertaining her as she shopped. What I needed was my wife to tell me to put something back. What I really needed was my wife. Badly. I missed her so terribly that I could hardly make it through the shopping trip before the tsunami began to crest.
So, I ran. And then Angry Me showed up and tried, unsuccessfully, to control things. When Angry Me got out of control I looked for distractions. Hard to see through the tears so I went to bed. Wrong answer. Bed time is the worst. Quiet. Alone. Too much time to think. Alone. Stopped up from the ugly tears. Alone. So. Very. Alone. Bedtime is not a good idea. But washing clothes, yeah, that's a good distraction. Start a load and then take some sinus medicine to help me breathe through the stuffiness brought on by the tears. Sinus medicine makes me sleepy. Climb in bed. Start to go to sleep. Remember the load of clothes and move them to the dryer. Find something to clean up. Get distracted by something else. Get sleepy. Climb in bed and watch TV. Forgot about the darn clothes again. Get up and fold the clothes and put them away. 2:00 a.m. No longer sleepy... And the scary bad dude catches me.
Yeah, I didn't see that coming.
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