Dates & Times

Today is May 21st, 2015. The 21st of the month has been a sensitive date for a three years now. In 2012 on March 21st my life changed forever. Ever since then I've wondered about the dates and times and whens and wheres events take place. Nothing seems that innocuous anymore. Those are broad sweeping statements that probably are exaggerated to an extent, but at their heart, they are true. I wonder about the simple moments now. The casual farewell, the careless comment, the nonchalant suggestion. I've opened myself up to say "yes" more often than not, but I've also been more careful with my no's.

I considered myself a conscientious person before my brother died, but after that event, I felt the weight of my own decisions more seriously. I've been more aware of how final each consecutive moment can be to the next. 

In September of last year one of my dear friends was killed by a drunk driver. He was just 20 years old, as if there is any age that is more comfortable when a life is stolen by irresponsibility. I was called to the same hospitable my brother was taken. My friend was still breathing when I arrived, but the whole situation sent me into shock again. Seeing my closest friends from the previous two year show up to support each other, crying, feeling the conclusion that was more than likely inevitable. I didn't cry. Not that time. I felt numb. I couldn't believe it was all happening again, and I knew there was nothing I could do to make it better. 

One death sent me to a broken place and the second reminded me of the incredible fragility of life that I usually don't pay any attention. Now I get in my car and I think, I could die today. I question where I'm going, who will be there, how I feel, what I did that day, and so many other things. Did I complete anything worthwhile today? Does my existence matter? 

At the same time, I feel a urge to throw caution out the window. Fuck it. I can't control it, right? So why worry? 

These are the extremes I've swung between pretty consistently for the last three years or so, sometimes more intensely than others. Honestly, it's probably been seven years, since my parents separated and divorced. I've been talking to a counselor since last May. She helps me gain perspective when I get stuck in an extreme, but sometimes her moderation makes me angry. I know she means well, but I am torn apart by the injustice of it all. When I hear in the news of individuals making wretched choices that hurt many people and how they live to tell the tale, I wonder how our whole universe is held together. I feel compelled to do something, anything that might express the powerlessness I feel to effect change. Moderation doesn't play much of a part in that compulsion. 

Grief. That's what they call it. There are five stages, apparently. 

1. Denial and Isolation

2. Anger

3. Bargaining 

4. Depression

5. Acceptance 

The experience I have had is that this is not a short and easy process. It's not like getting your Wisdom teeth removed. The emotional impact of these events ricochet for minutes and days, sometimes relentlessly so without recognition. There are times to press on and there are times to fall back and reflect and review. It takes awareness and willpower to know when and how to do both at appropriate times. 

This TED talk was particularly insightful on the subject. 

And now is one of those times to move forward, so I'll leave you with this song. It was one I danced to a couple summers ago when I attended a dance intensive in Minneapolis.