Tag Archives: life

Grace Visits, Ali “Turns Back On,” and a Return to San Fran

I haven’t blogged in a hot minute and I have no idea why. So much has happened and my memory is so bad, I really suck for not getting stuff down as it was happening. So this post will be a catch-up of sorts. I have events I should have documented, but I think the more interesting thing is how I’ve emotionally changed in the last month.

Grace Visits:

Around the 6 month anniversary of Daddy’s D-Day, Grace and Aaron came to visit. Before this visit I had started to see friends again but in very small doses. This was the first time we hosted guests for an entire weekend and I was very nervous. EVEN THOUGH Grace is my heterolifemate, the big sister I never had, and one of my top 5 favorite people on the planet, I was still nervous.

When I opened the door to her I was kind of shy and like “hey… here I am… still here… alive…” The old-Ali would have opened the door screaming and jumping for joy. But the new-Ali was all like “I’m broken. Please don’t judge.”

The weekend that ensued deserves its own post because it was so awesome, but for purposes of this post I cannot reiterate enough how incredibly restorative it was to have Grace here. We talked about Daddy and grief and how completely broken I am all weekend long. She and Aaron listened to me for hours and hours. And even though Grace hasn’t experienced a loss of that magnitude, I could see and feel her empathy for me. She knew my Daddy, she knows how important he is to me, she GOT it.

After I said goodbye to her I went to bed and had a huge meltdown/ugly cry. All I could do was sob about not wanting her to leave and not wanting to go “back to the life” before the Thursday night Grace came to visit.

In therapy two days later, we concluded that Grace is a very safe person for me. My first home was with her and her presence is immediately soothing to my soul. My therapist was so happy that she came down and allowed me to be my true self because that’s what I am around Grace – the real, raw, unfiltered me.

My reaction to her leaving after a 3 day visit reminded me of my last line in the toast I gave at Grace and Aaron’s wedding in my advice to Aaron: Wherever you live and whatever you do, wherever there is Grace, there will be your home.

I was afraid that when Grace left, she’d take the peace and ‘homeyness’ of her presence with her.

Ali Turns Back On:

When I went back to work after Grace’s visit, I realized that I was really… energetic. Like, more than the post-Daddy-usual. More like the old-Ali.

I was also laughing REALLY hard at things that were only moderately funny and getting really bent over things that weren’t worth it.

I even got excited about Booty Band coming back to The Social on 10/18 and organized a Facebook invite for friends to come to the show, which was followed by a panic attack because I couldn’t imagine seeing all those people but hey – the point is that I actually got excited and engaged with people!

The only way I can describe this feeling is that I seemed to come back to life, or “turn back on.” Like, prior to Grace’s visit, I was completely shut down. And then after Grace’s visit, I booted back up. I described this in my last post:

I compare myself to a computer that finally finished downloading and installing a new OS (Sudden Daddyless Daughter v1.0). I’ve rebooted but everything is all scrambled. Programs have to be reinstalled. Login and passwords have to be changed. The poor ol’ box is confused and has to reconfig everything.

Basically my emotions are back up and running for the first time but my system is all scrambled. And even if the emotion I’m feeling at a given moment is appropriate, there’s a chance I’m feeling it too strongly or not strongly enough for the situation.

Now that I’ve had even more time to reflect on this sudden onslaught of emotions, it’s more like this: I’ve realized that *I* am more than *my grief.*

Or said another way – A portion of my psyche is now able to do things other than grieve, and it is doing everything all at once.

If you’ve ever read Hyperbole and a Half, the last four weeks have been my corn moment.

Return to San Fran:

I was doing so well, progressing so nicely, and then I found out I had to return to the scene of the crime for work.

I *knew* going back to San Fran was going to be hard. I anticipated an onslaught of emotions, specifically in that freaking airport where I had to call my Uncle to tell him his younger brother died.

I did NOT expect to have a complete melt down and panic attack when I got to the area I spent so much time waiting on that last trip. But I did. Thankfully it didn’t last long.

Overall it was another quick trip (and another event worth its own post, especially my time at GooglePlex), but I got to see Timmy and retrace a lot of steps from my last trip – this time without anyone dying back-home.

I did get to see Timmy again and I realized something so profound that I actually had to kind of put a disclaimer on it over drinks: The Alicia on September 18th was not, outwardly, a whole lot different than the Ali from February 20th.

So what’s the point of this post again…?

Tuesday was 7 months since my Daddy died and I didn’t fall apart. In fact….

I spoke to Carrie on the phone last week and she said “I can hear the difference in your voice! You sound so much better.”

Mia heard my plans for the fall and said “Uh oh… Alicia’s comin’ back to life!”

Grace’s text to me when she landed safely in NY was “I’m reassured to see first hand that you are still the strong person you were before.”

I hung out with Tim and Jon, and had to tell both of them something along the lines of “I know I don’t seem very different to you but I’ve had to work on myself a LOT in the last seven months.”

So the point is this: I’m getting there. I’m getting better. The old-Ali of “before” and the new-Alicia from “after” are starting to align. I’m learning how to work grief into my everyday, new-normal life. 

But I’m not done yet. I have a new edge to me that I find is even snarkier than “before.” My general ‘give a fuck’ filter is starting to turn back on so I’m not telling people, completely unsolicited, how little what they do matters  in the grand scheme of life as often as I was. I’m trying to push down anger and promote joy.

And yeah – 7 months.

  • I feel amazed that I can see around my grief right now. It seems so soon. Too soon.
  • I expect to have relapses for, well, ever.
  • I can’t imagine the 1-year anniversary. I just can’t. It hurts.
  • I miss my Daddy. Like, good ol’ fashioned MISS. His voice, his laugh, his advice, calling him when something awesome happened and hearing how proud he was of me. The way he would say “very nice,” and “beautiful!” when I got recognition in work or scheduled a cool vacation. I miss my Daddy so much.

To the future-Ali(cia) who reads this I just want to say: You’re doing great. Don’t freak out about how quickly you’re starting to get back to normal. It’s not disrespectful to your Dad. And I know, I just KNOW, that he is absurdly proud of you for how you’ve handled this.

The Mother Effin’ FEELS

Six months since I lost my Daddy.

Three months since I started therapy.

One month since I brought Mia home.

And about two weeks since I noticed I was FEELING things again.

Feels. So many feels.

When I say “noticed I was feeling…” I mean the following:

  • I feel something,… but I don’t know what.
  • I feel angry and am not sure if it’s justified.
  • I feel sad, and I absolutely know that’s justified.
  • I feel happy! Like, carefree!
  • Now I feel guilty for feeling happy…
  • But how can I be happy, if reality is my Daddy’s dead? Now I feel stunned and confused.
  • I feel so many things right now, there is no one discernible feeling I can identify.

And that shit is exhausting.

I mean that literally, by the way. Feeling things, rotating emotions like cycling through a fucking rolodex in your heart, will wear you out.

The worst part, I think, is genuinely NOT knowing WHAT I am feeling. It’s like waking up and truly having no idea where you are.

As I told my therapist, there are things I expect to not know, like… the future.

But I kind of expect to know what I’m feeling at a given moment.

That, however, is not a luxury I am provided at this stage of the process.

I compare myself to a computer that finally finished downloading and installing a new OS (Sudden Daddyless Daughter v1.0). I’ve rebooted but everything is all scrambled. Programs have to be reinstalled. Login and passwords have to be changed. The poor ol’ box is confused and has to reconfig everything.

Basically my emotions are back up and running for the first time but my system is all scrambled. And even if the emotion I’m feeling at a given moment is appropriate, there’s a chance I’m feeling it too strongly or not strongly enough for the situation.

And so I throw myself into my work, I hoop my ass off, and I started doing other things too. And not just on auto-pilot or by force (see: most of the posts I’ve written lately). I mean, I am actively participating, present, and accounted for.

For example:

  • I saw a movie, IN A MOVIE THEATER!
  • I bought a new freakin’ car!
  • I had friends come stay, in my house, for many days in a row and we went to Blue Springs to swim and got pedi’s and drank beer and laughed, a LOT!
  • I drafted this post, saw my erroneous tense changes and other grammatical errors, and PUBLISHED IT ANYWAY!

But with great feelings, come great burdens….?

(yes I just made that up, whatever I needed to break this post up)

However, my Daddy and his sudden loss were in the back of my mind almost the whole time.

While I might take solace in feeling good (read: any) things again, I must also deal with feeling very deep, bleak things. Painful, awful feelings that I experience stronger than ever.

I described my grief to Grace last weekend and it went like this:

The girl I was before February 23rd died with her Daddy. That Ali was naive and so blissfully ignorant of true devastation and pain. This new me, well, I know now how truly dark life can be.

This new me has a hole in my heart and it is huge. It’s this giant, gaping, empty hole and my subconscious spends all of its waking moments dancing on the the edges of that hole. Sometimes I fall in and those are the times I cry so hard I feel like my heart is being ripped out and I don’t think I can ever be anyone besides That Girl Whose Daddy Died Far Too Young, Far Too Suddenly, While She Was On The Other Side Of The Country.  Otherwise known as The Girl Who Lost The Person Who Loved Her Best. Or, The Girl Who Lost Her Only Parent That Cared.

The good news is that I don’t live in the big, dark hole… anymore.  I’m giving myself permission to fall in, on occasion, and therapy is helping me remember how to even WANT to come out.

(Side Note: I’ve spent days, weeks, months even, hiding inside of that hole and refusing to come out. There’s something about the pain that becomes comforting after awhile. In a way, the pain becomes a symbol of how much you loved that person and how deeply you grieve them. And it’s very hard, sometimes, to let it go.)

My therapist says I’m one of the lucky few who have enough self awareness to recognize these things, and it’s up to me to choose what to do with this new awareness.

For what it’s worth, I haven’t chosen yet. Right now I’m marveling at what it feels like to feel again. It’s overwhelming and disorienting, but the old me loved life so much,… to feel strongly about things again, in a way it feels like coming home.

And hopefully as a result my next few posts about life and activities won’t feel quite so forced.

30 Things I’ve Learned in Over 30 Years

Next March I’ll be 32 and I’ve realized the last few years have been incredibly enlightening. I’ve learned a lot about myself. I’m accepted a lot about myself.

So here are 30 things that, over the years, have become simple but absolute Ali-truths. Some of them aren’t surprising, but others… I figured I’d outgrow but never did. Either way, I’m taking advantage of NaBloPoMo to put them down.

  1. I can not wear cheap shoes, no matter how cute they are.
  2. I can’t stay out drinking until 2am and rally the next morning to get to work at 8am.
  3. I will never, ever, ever fold or hang my laundry as soon as it comes out of the drier.
  4. I can’t say no to a 3-legged cat, no matter what she wants. It’s just impossible.
  5. I’m not afraid to tell people that I love them.
  6. But I’m never going to be comfortable opening gifts in front of the person who gave them to me.
  7. A hot bath will fix just about anything.
  8. I like to open a beer after a long day at work but I never seem to finish it.
  9. Speaking of spirits, I’m just not the kind of girl who drinks wine at home.
  10. The older I get, the less I sound like Patsy and the more I sound like Eddy.
  11. Oil changes. Yes, they’re required as often as recommended and no, I will never feel comfortable getting one.
  12. I just can’t have enough lingerie.
  13. Styles come back, so don’t give away good pieces just because a trend has passed.
  14. The lyrics to Baby Got Back will always be a part of me.
  15. There is no good place to put a once-great, formally-loved, currently out-of-date and never-to-be-used-again Cell Phone.
  16. It takes at least three solid weeks of working out before I really *want* to work out.
  17. Milk will never quench my thirst, but Chocolate Milk will!
  18. Yes I CAN spend an entire day in bed, reading a book. I don’t ever need to change out of my pajamas, brush my teeth, or see the light of day.
  19. I actually like to cook, a LOT. It was the ‘trying to learn from my mom’ part that I hated.
  20. Handmade soaps with clove oil and/or ginger are *the.* *best.*
  21. Wait to start cooking until friends come over. The kitchen is the best place to hang-out and catch-up, and doubley so if you all work together to make delicious food.
  22. Above ground pools = Tadpolls. Tadpolls = Frogs. I hate frogs, therefore I hate above ground pools.
  23. I genuinely love getting snail mail.
  24. I have to stop collecting knickknacks.
  25. The smell of leather is intoxicating.
  26. I talk to myself when I’m driving. Out loud.
  27. I get lost far, far too easily and there’s a good chance I would have ended up in another state if not for my phone’s GPS.
  28. Chlorox wipes were sent here from God’s own cleaning supply cabinet.
  29. The feeling of freshly shaven legs on clean linen sheets will never get old.
  30. Even though I’ve figured a lot out, I know there’s a whole lot left to learn.