Saturday, 12 February 2011
Three Weeks In
I'm pretty sure everyone is fed up of hearing me moan, so I was thinking about not writing anything, but, the whole reason I'm writing in here is not for you, its purely for me, OK the songs of the week and other random crap is less for me and more for you, kinda, but the detailed log of my unlucky streak, health etc is for me. So having temporarily deluded myself, Ive seen sense again, as a result I think I need to type in here, I don't even know what I'm about to type, so apologies if its shit, but I need to write something, Ive spent a whole week feeling a mixture of emotions.
Ive only been in Hereford for the past week because Ive pretty much been instructed to by a family friend, who just happens to be a retired anaesthetist. In talking to him, we established that returning to Plymouth would not be a good idea as the general anesthetic will still be having an effect on me, and although putting myself in the library all day will make me feel better about myself, he said there is a very good chance absolutely none of it will make sense, that's if you could keep your eyes open. To be fair he has been spot on, Ive spent most of this week dozing in and out of consciousness, a direct result of clockwork Diclofenac, Solpadol and Tramadol, and probably the reminiscence of my general anesthetic. In fact whilst we are on the topic of general anesthetic, whatever I was given when I was in the pre op room was absolutely mind numbingly fantastic. I think it was Propofol, a drug used to induce unconsciousness whilst other drugs are administered. Well right before I delved into the depths of that unconsciousness I got a taste of what Profonol can do to you whilst your conscious, and all I can say is it puts morphine to shame, I instantly had mild double vision, there were suddenly two clocks on the wall and the people around me were swaying, but at the same time I was in complete nirvana, so floaty, so distant, then it all ended and I was out cold, next thing I'm dopey as anything in a recovery room.
So as long winded as that was, that is the primary reason Ive been stuck at home all week. Its driven me insane, I cant escape, I can barely brush my own teeth let alone keep myself occupied. Right now the last thing I want to be doing is nothing. Mum and Matt have been keeping busy, doing extra work or spending more time in the garden, just so that their mind is kept active, as soon as you stop you think about dad. Well I haven't had the opportunity to keep busy to avoid stopping, so Ive been in bed most days, unable to concentrate on anything, and yes dad has been on my mind, hes on my mind every waking minute, (and sleeing minute) but, for some reason I'm not very emotional, still numb to it all. However it doesn't take much to change that. I think that I think dad is still going to walk through the door, or that hes on holiday or he's gone away, like Ive said before I can quite easily type here that I know I'm never going to see him again, but the just feel like empty words with no meaning, it feels like a lie.
Some times it takes years to get back to normal/recover/accept what ever you want to call it. Do you ever get back to normal? will things ever feel the same again? I know that our house is very quiet, my brother came around last night and it was so bizarre to think that just the three of us, that that is the Wetherbee family now. not four, three. There is no banter, no laughter, no mockery, me and dad fired on the same wave length to such an extent that anything and everything was easily turned into a joke, that's all gone, Ive got no one to bounce off anymore. ok so now i get emotional. so I'm left wandering around this empty silent house that's got an incomprehendable hole in it. I'm in a sling, I cant escape, I cant do anything about it. My coping strategies have gone out the window, I cant go for a three hour surf session, three hours of nothing but focusing on surf, I cant go for a bike ride either, nothing. I just get to moap around the house soaking up the loss.
That's about all I feel at the moment is an epic sense of loss, an epic hole in my life, and an huge amount of sadness. I think Ive had one day in the last, well, months really that Ive felt positive, I knew it wouldn't last long and it didn't, it lasted until that evening. But at least that day has acted as a reminder of how it feels to be positive, to have things to look forward to, but ever since that day I haven't come close to feeling that positivity, perhaps once I leave the house that may change. I'm going to Plymouth on Monday, however last time I went to Plymouth I didn't get that pick me up, the Plymouth Pick Me Up that always works, seems for now, to be on hold. Will that change?
So many questions, there are so many uncertainties that I don't know the answer to, except that oh so clinched saying "it takes time" yer well time will tell, of course, but that doesn't help me right now, here, lying in bed at nearly 4pm having not got out all day because there is nothing to get out of bed for. I'm not moaper by nature, I'm a dooer, but I'm not fatherless my nature either, so I think I'm probably allowed to moap. Am I making a bigger deal out of this than I should? should I stop whining and just try and get on? should I be talking more about this, should I this, should I that, I question myself and my own actions quite a lot these days, I never generate a convincing answer.
So where do I find my self three weeks on?
The bottom line is that three weeks down the line and I still feel lost and empty, yes Ive got mum and Matt and loads of friends, but dad, dad was the one I always turned to in need. and right now I'm in dire need and he's not here to turn to. Mum is fantastic but she is grieving in her own way and right now I'm staying strong for her and helping her deal with everything, friends too, but, I dont know, its different. When you loose such an amazing bond with someone, its just on a different level.
So three weeks on and its still not really happening, its all just a surreal, bizarre situation that feels like it will soon resolve its self. Of course that's how I feel, but at the same time I know its not true, so given that I can feel and express two conflicting beliefs, I think I'm mostly certainly in denial, or perhaps just still numbed by what has happened.
Whatever the hell Is going on with me, Ive got to deal with it and take it as it comes.