I’m cautiously optimistic lately. For good reasons of course. May 3rd marked the eighth month of his passing. I got through the first few days thanks to some very awesome people who could have very well saved my life that day & the one’s that followed. I got through the first Christmas and recently the first, not to mention milestone birthday. Most importantly I got through the past eight months and survived. Death hurts, not matter which way you look at it, who it happens to. We all deal with it differently, we all feel pain on different levels. People are like snowflakes, unique and very much one of a kind. We all feel the same emotions, except on different levels at different times. We all also deal with them differently as well. I find that we all tend to loose sight of that when dealing with something. How often have you heard/said “If that was me…” OK I’ll give you that, however we also need to keep in mind that we don’t all think alike.
Death by suicide?
That’s a whole different animal right there.
There’s no answer’s, only speculation. Guilt. Selfish thoughts such as wasn’t I good enough to live for, or my own personal favorite, why didn’t I try harder to save you? I know now that I couldn’t (save him),but part of me wishes that I tried just a little harder for a little longer. I might have had him for a little longer, as selfish as that is.
So many questions and there’s never a proper answer. Then I got it. The days leading up to his birthday were some of the darkest I have ever experienced. Simply put, I didn’t care. To say I felt dead inside was putting it mildly. Why should I feel that way? I have some of the best people in my life that a girl could ever ask for, a career, my own business, I’m starting a charity and have a whole new perspective on life. Except for that brief period…
None of it mattered. Not a single thing.
Can’t really explain it, nor rationalize it other then I got it. Jason’s death made sense to me. Kinda. Maybe that was what I needed to feel in order to make sense of it all. To gain a better understanding of his thoughts and feelings. I stopped blaming myself a long time ago, the guilt has finally started to ebb away. Maybe I’ve finally reached the stage of reconstruction/working through and acceptance? Who knows, only time in and of itself will truly tell.
For a lot of reasons, Jason’s death was a major turning point in my life. I learned a lot about myself, the capacity of just how strong I could be, needed to be to get through this and have some semblance of normalcy in my life. The biggest kick in the proverbial ass was looking at my life, the things I have done and what made me UN-happy and took some major personal inventory about the things that I didn’t need or want in my life. Certain people needed to go, a career change and the burning need to make a difference. I have however come to the conclusion that I need to work on me first before I can conquer helping others. Because when your not feeling “normal” then how on earth can one expect to help others with the same pain/issues/emotional turmoil. A lot of what has occurred goes back to his death, I almost feel like I’m borderline obsessing about it because I have OCD and tend to take just about everything over the top sometimes.
Its been a long ugly road, full of some serious uphill battles, personal reflection and so many questions. I never lost sight of a bigger picture, except I didn’t really know what to expect of that, because I had a hard time seeing it. So many things got put on hold because I just didn’t couldn’t see it. Then things started to happen, things that I didn’t expect to happen.
(by him I mean Pete for those of you not in the know)
Somehow he managed to restore some of the damaged faith I had in myself and others. I honestly didn’t think I had the capacity, the want, the need or the know how to give a damn about someone new. Turns out I was wrong, delightfully so.
However, not everything was is shiny & pretty with cupcakes, kittens and unicorns.
He changed me…
Now that’s not a bad thing, it has however been quite the learning experience. We’ve talked about it a few times and while I am not going to write about what he said/did because its not my place to do so. I had one hell of a epiphany the other day at my friends wedding no less (of all places) dear God! Between the stress of making their wedding cake, the sleep deprivation, working amongst all that will make any sane person crazy on some level. Top that off with too many margarita’s, allergy pills, anti-inflammatory meds, just trying to deal and occasionally feeling like the walking wounded, I had a sneaking suspicion that I was about knew I was going to have an epic meltdown and it was going to happen sooner as opposed to later. I kept my cool when the cake wasn’t working out the way we wanted to, when all that hard work & materials totally went to waste. I didn’t freak out once, which for me was likely a record. Chef’s are notorious for being emotionally UN-stable/passionate people when it comes to their food and I am certainly not an exception to that rule.
Then the wedding happened.
Which was great, but I’ll save that post for another day. This isn’t about the wedding, more so what happened (to me) at it.
A very minor incident occurred which under normal circumstances wouldn’t have bothered me for more then about 30 seconds but to pile that on top of everything else, something inside me snapped. I tried to rationalize it in my mind, but in my drunken state it was just beyond me to do so. My panties got in the biggest knot and I felt the need to say something about it. Not the right time, certainly not the right place either. I did however know that if I squashed it and left it attempted to leave it for another day, or just a better time I just might have totally exploded. It was petty, so ridiculously petty. Not to mention something that wasn’t worth making a fuss over, however I just seemingly couldn’t help myself (of course). So I said what needed to be said and thought it best to let it go.
However it was far from being that simple.
It however turned out to be a good thing in the end.
After all, everything happens for a reason right?
I like to think hope so.
I also like searching for the meaning behind it all and following random timeliness of occurrence in my life to piece it all together. Especially when something horrific happens.
It helps me on a number of levels.
I occasionally recommend it even.
It does have its downfalls though, sometimes (more often then not) I tend to talk too much about things that aren’t truly relevant per say. At least not to whomever I’m conversing with. Sometimes I do it because to know me, especially if your personally involved with me is to have a base understanding of where I am and more importantly where I’ve been. Sadly because some of those occurrences shaped me into the person I am now. However, I need to keep in mind that sometimes making such statements may in fact hurt other people. Which I have no knowledge of unless its presented forth to me. Which it was recently and I’ve been thinking a lot about why I do that. I tried to explain it to someone to help them make sense of it all, and to help me make some sense of it all as well.
Then something dawned on me…
I’ve settled far too much in this lifetime.
I rather vehemently stated that I refuse to settle anymore except for work. Because regardless of how qualified I am, I still need to pay my rent and even if that means taking a job that doesn’t pay me as much as I would like, I can at least take care of basic essential needs. I also found that I settle too much in personal relationships and I have to say that Pete really opened up my eyes in this regard.
It was a rude awakening.
Also shameful, disappointing and several other things but you get the picture.
It made me realize that by saying certain things out loud, makes it seem real, but it also helps me sort it out in my head which is a bit of a discombobulated mess more often then not these days. It also made me realize that I have settled too much in this lifetime. My 32nd birthday is looming ahead and I’m at the point in my life where I’m evolving and changing and so many other things and having realized that I thought to myself WTF, I’ve wasted so much of my life! Then I thought to myself, NO its not a waste.
All those moments made me who I am today.
All those moments also make me appreciate what I have now more then ever.
Meeting him was a total fluke of epic proportions but it was meant to happen. All the douche-bags that came before him make me appreciate him that much more. He’s a good person overall. I need want more of that in my life. He’s not perfect, but almost, at least to me. I couldn’t have asked for anything more and I am grateful for that. If anything he’s taught me something very valuable that has left and will most likely continue to leave a lasting impression on me. That’s a big deal, at least to me. While its somewhat sad in a way that I was so mistreated previous to meeting him that I felt compelled to tell him how awesome he was about every five minutes at the wedding in my drunken stupor, I meant it. Every. Single. Time. Because he is. He’s changed me in a few ways, not because he himself asked me to change, because I pretty much know that he accepts me for who I am. Because I wanted to, for me and no one else. I’m quite thankful for that.
I don’t think either of us realized that my inviting him to be my guest to Clint and Jen’s wedding was a hidden translation for:” Take a ride on the Steph’s-about-to-have-an-epic-meltdown-fail-train” but in spite of it all that night was a total win in the end.
It just goes to show you, that you can dress me up, but you can’t take me out. That’ll learn him now won’t it 😉