My grieving diary
The big question you might be asking probably is: “Why did she post something so personal online?” The answer would have to be that in light of recent events in my life I began to view life differently and I realized many things, one of which being that there’s nothing scarier than the feelings of helplessness and loneliness which overshadow everything else when a person close to you dies. After experiencing that loss myself I wish for nothing more, than for people in similar circumstances to never feel alone.
I hope that reading my thoughts might help somebody to cope with their own grief. These passages were written between March 2nd and April 20th, 2004. Even though I had more support from my family and friends than ever before during that time I felt so incredibly lonely that I stopped painting. Before this I was never able not to paint for more than a week or so. I always had a NEED to paint. After Val's death I couldn't bring myself to do it. I started writing the following diary a few days after Val's funeral and stopped writing on the day I felt the need to paint again. I'm not sure exactly who I was addressing my thoughts to, but I know that writing how I felt made me feel a just a bit better.
***
I fell asleep again. It comes on so suddenly I can’t fight it. Which is OK. I have so many other things I have to fight off. The hardest thing I have to struggle with is acceptance. It’s probably the hardest thing any person has to deal with. We have to accept so many things in this life. Crashed dreams, broken heart… Accepting who you are. There are so many of them. But how does one accept the fact that time is irreversible? If I learned one thing from all this -- it would be that from now on I’ll try my best to be my best. It’ll most likely send me into overanalyzing of everything I do, but it’ll also eliminate chances of me regretting anything later. I always try not to regret my actions and I so often do.
I feel like my life is a crush course in comparison to other people’s lives. It’s like God decided that instead of me living 10 lives he’ll let me go through all the emotions in one. Frank Sinatra’s song comes to mind. “I’ve been a pirate, a Pope, a pond and a king”… or something like that. You know that one. I hate the idea of not having all the options in this life. Val’s death took out of my life the notion that I have all the options open. I’m trying to make sense of things and I realize more and more that some things can’t be made sense of. I find logic in inexplicable and look for clues where there might not be any. My mother bought a book of Impressionistic paintings today. When Val and I were very much interested in each other, but haven’t started dating yet I was at his house. We played pool the whole evening. I was so nervous and excited at the same time. I was anticipating our first kiss and was too afraid to make the first move. My friend who came with me to Val’s fell asleep on the couch. It was very late at night and Val was trying to find something to entertain me and not to reveal his own nervousness. He took a book from a bookshelf. We sat on the floor and looked at the paintings of the French Impressionists.
When my mother took out the book she bought out of a paper bag it was like a “Hello” from Val. Coincidence? Most likely. However, I’m a human and it’s easier for us to believe that life is not accidental and there’s more to it than just random events. I always feel like I don’t have enough time. I rush with everything that I do, afraid that I won’t be able to accomplish everything that in my head I was meant to accomplish. Is it possible that my life will be short? It’s a scary thought. I always feel everything ahead of time. Val did too. How could he not feel that that night was his last? I thought about what I would do if he were to die for years. I imagined his funeral. That thought constantly entered my mind, but I always pushed it away ashamed and full of guilt for letting that image appear on the first place. My intuition is never wrong. So was Val’s.
For some reason I don’t feel guilty anymore about sensing his end. I feel guilty about other things, and yet I also feel that I shouldn’t feel guilty and that Val took my sins with him. I feel like my life is a blank page and I have my chance to start all over. I feel like a newborn. I’ll be a better person now. I’m always so conflicted. I’m struggling because I know who I am, I know who I should be for others and I know who I want to be for myself. I want to be honest with myself and never regret not doing something. My life is going to change and I’ll do everything to be happier. For real. I’ll do what I want to do. I’ll have no fear. I won’t waste my time trying to impress anybody. I’ll make sure my loved ones know that I love them and I’ll stay safe for them. I’ll try being more tolerant. I have no tolerance for stupidity. I’ll have to develop it. Along with other things. I’ll work on my eternal inner conflict and I’ll win.
***
Another Day… Couldn’t sleep too well. Felt like puking in the morning. Things are going to change. I know it. I’ll never turn anybody down. I’m not pretending to be the next mother Teresa, but I’ll try being the best Natasha I could be. I’m still trying to make sense of things. I don’t know anymore if things are suppose to make sense, but I’m still trying to look for clues. I slept the whole day. As I was falling asleep “Mad About You” was on. Paul was in the hospital and James was begging him not to ever die. When I woke up “Once and Again” was on and the action was in a hospital again. Mary Elizabeth’s daughter was giving birth. Yesterday Julia told me some weird rebirth story about a little boy dying and his devastated grandmother spending every day at the cemetery. Then, she went to see a psychic and the psychic told her that the little boy was already reborn in a good family somewhere in Germany. After that grandmother stopped going to the cemetery, because she said there’s no point of visiting an old shirt when a new one was already bought. I guess what I’m trying to say that in my search for sense I felt that the show about birth was Val’s way of letting me know that he’ll be born again. Maybe I’ll be his mother. On his last day I promised him that if I ever have a son I’ll name him Val. I promised him other things too. I wanted him to know that everything will be fine, so he’ll be able to let go. I wish I could be a little less logical. I’m my own therapist. It’d be much easier if I was a bit kookier. I want to be able to scream and punch walls. I want to loose control and just let all of my emotions out.
***
And now it began to hit me. This is it! I don’t know what to think anymore. Is there an afterlife? Why wouldn’t he let me know that he’s ok? I need to know. I’m not afraid of ghosts anymore.
***
Today at work Andrew said that it was nice to see me smiling again. I didn’t realize I wasn’t smiling all this time. I think I entered a new stage – apathy. Which is kinda good. At least it doesn’t hurt as much anymore. Yesterday I passed by a few places that reminded me of Val. One was on a highway where he got a $500 ticket for speeding. Another one was a place where he and a friend of ours had an accident. I have so many memories of him speeding, being totally careless, driving drunk, getting into accidents and such like. Before they seemed like funny stories I could tell people. Now they appear like indications of things to come. He led a careless lifestyle and I never tried stopping him. Why does it take something like this for people to grow up?
I’m trying to stay mad. I feel that I need to hold on to all these emotions, to suffer through them and come out a winner. I can beat all of this, but I can’t bury it like I always do. I always bury my feelings and then when something bad happens everything and I mean everything comes out. I don’t want it to happen this time. It’s too much to keep inside. I’ll grieve for as long as I need to.
Now I’m beginning to understand what it feels like when your heart is breaking. I can actually feel it.
***
Another day. I could barely make it home. Almost fell asleep. As soon as I entered my room I collapsed on the couch and slept for an hour. I have no energy and I’m getting tired of my own whining.
***
I looked at Val’s ring today. His mother gave it back to me. He wore it for four years. Had it on when he crashed. It made me cry. I can’t even cry anymore. I remember proposing to Val with that ring. It was New Year’s Eve. We were celebrating at a friend’s apartment. I took Val outside the door, got on one knee and proposed. It seems like it was only yesterday. How can he do this to me. Everybody keeps on saying how harmless Val was. Wouldn’t hurt a fly. Well, he hurt a lot of people with his death. I forgive him though. I hope he forgives me too. I hope that my suffering could be an offering to him in exchange for forgiveness. I’m feeling so s****y. I feel so uninspired. I want to do something great to preserve his memory. I want people to never forget him. He could’ve been so many things in this life. I wish I supported him more. I wish… There’s no going back. Some people are not meant for this world, I guess. My little prince is gone. I’ll keep him in my heart forever. I wish it weren’t so hard to say goodbye.
I’m glad I was a part of his life. I wish he would be still a part of mine. I wish he would be still alive!
***
Today my boss was looking for scotch tape and after I pointed it out that it was right in front of his nose, he smiled and told me: “Never get old, Natasha” meaning it sucks being old. I said that I can’t promise him that I won’t and I thought to myself: “I’ll take getting old. Val will never have that option…” Not that he ever wanted to get old. I can’t even picture him being old. I can’t picture myself being old either, but I’ll take it.
***
I still have no energy. Fell asleep again. It’s been two weeks since he died. Will I ever feel better? I have so many thoughts. What if afterlife is not what they make it to be? Maybe his death is my punishment… Why do I always think everything is about me?
***
And yet another day. Still trying to adjust to my new reality. Why am I grieving so much? We've been apart for quite a while now. Before we broke up we grew apart. I understand all this with my mind, but all my heart remembers is us being happy. For a while we were very happy and that's how I want to remember him. Things happen because they need to happen in a certain way. I’m more or less where I want to be, am I not? He's in a good place too. Supposedly he is. At least, that's what people around me keep on saying. They telling me to let go. They telling me that by remembering him I'm keeping him here and making him suffer. It makes so little sense.
Nothing makes sense anymore. I remember his face when he died. He looked as if he were asleep. He looked like himself again. The swelling went down and I was recognizing his features again. His nose. I drew that nose my whole life. Long before I even met him. I drew his face for years without realizing that one day it'll materialize. Life is amazing. It's so chaotic and orderly at the same time it seems unreal. Maybe it's all a play staged by God for my benefit. What if people I know don't even exist beyond the time when I interact with them.
All right, I'm going crazy. If only it were the case. I'm too normal and too rational which makes all this much harder. My photographic memory, my mother's pride makes it all too hard on me as well. I want every second of those four days out of my head. It'd be so much easier if I weren't there... I remember the last breath he took. I still can't believe I watched him die! It can't be real! I remember us talking about death. I always said that I want to die before him, because I'm not strong enough to watch him die. I told him that I'd wait for him. Both of us secretly hoped that we'll die on the same day, so neither would have to suffer the loss. I guess things don't always work the way we want them too. Am I even writing this??? How can I be writing THIS? It's absurd. ABSURD!!!
***
Talked to his mom tonight. She said that I was Val’s one true love. I was what he needed. I know that. Life goes on, right? One day it’ll be better. Talked to Tony last night. He said that after 7 years after his dad’s death and 8 years after his brother’s he can finally be happy again. I’ll be 32 in seven years. My best years would be gone. Who knows? I push myself towards greatness. Who needs that? I’d rather have great friends and people who care about me.
***
I’m watching a special on ABC about Diana’s tapes. It’s scary to know that she’s now dead. I’m afraid to die young, not being able to accomplish everything that I want to accomplish. The truth of it is that I don’t know how long I have. I want to live each day to the fullest. I don’t think I know how to anymore. Everything what happens happens for better? I’ll find that out. On the bright side, I’m still alive. If we stayed together and I were in that car it would’ve made a great love story… Especially if both of us stayed vegetables, side by side. Sarcasm is not appropriate right now. I should stop that. The chapter is closed. What’s next? I don’t know. Which is better. I’d rather not know. How can one even live knowing?
I keep on making myself feel better by imagining that things could be much worse. I guess it’s a glimpse of some type of sick optimism on my part.
***
Yesterday was another wasted day. I came from work and fell asleep pretty much right away. Slept till 10 PM and after a few hours of sleepy wondering went back to bed. I was waking up often catching myself thinking even in my sleep. I had a dream. It was somewhat similar to that stupid movie “The Time Machine”. In my dream I was given an opportunity to go back in time. I knew that Val was going to die and I wanted to warn him. However, he wasn’t supposed to die in a car accident. His death was supposed to come from a collapsing of a building. I raced to the place where I knew he was. He was in a process of moving into a new apartment. The apartment building stood on thin columns. Val’s belongings were still downstairs under the building itself and he and some people were about to move them upstairs. As I approached him I was trying to lure him away onto the parking lot. For some reason I tried speaking very quietly afraid that the building could collapse from the sound of my voice. I don’t remember what happened after that, but I remember watching him die again. I woke up having very conflicting feelings. I was feeling the usual pain of loss on one hand and somewhat of a relief on the other. I felt like my dream was Val’s way to show me that I couldn’t have saved him.
***
I’m not letting myself grieve to the full extend. Hell with keeping myself in control. I’m hurting. I just read some stuff meant for people going through a loss of a loved one. I have all the symptoms. I’m depressed. I have no energy. All I can do is sleep. I’m hurting. I hate that I’ll never be able to talk to him again. He was a part of my life and I can’t accept that he’s not anymore. I don’t like the idea of reincarnation. When I die I want to see Val as he was and I want to talk to him. To HIM. I don’t want to meet in the next life. I want to meet in the afterlife and I want him to know me! I know all that stuff how the soul doesn’t care about humanly obsessions and such like. Screw that. I want to care. I want to see people that I knew and I want to see them the way they were. Maybe I just need to let go. I’m afraid to say or think stuff. I just need to let go. What am I afraid of? Why do I always think about other people’s feelings? As an end-result I always end up hurting them anyways. I always struggle. I want to be better and I don’t do things that my heart tells me to. Then when I do follow my heart I make things worse. I feel guilty for thinking. God forgive me. How do I turn it off? God, I wish I could talk to him. This world is weird. I don’t like it right now. I am thinking about my own death time to time and as the brochure tells me it’s perfectly normal. Death seems appealing. I can’t be so selfish. If this experience taught me anything it would be that we don't belong to ourselves.
***
Why? Why? I need answers. Why can’t I go back in time and warn him? I keep on dreaming that I go back in time and try warning him. When he asks me who I am I answer that I'm the girl who's going to hold his hand when he dies. In my life I was blessed with people who loved me and I have to cherish it. Life is hard, but I do love it anyway. Sometimes I feel like I’m wasting it, though… I wish my parents raised me differently. I wish I was different. I don’t want to die and become some energy floating around. Although the thought of Val floating around me is somewhat comforting. I remember the morning of the day they turned his life support off. I've stayed in Val's room the whole night holding his hand, knowing that it'll be our last night together. I talked to him for hours trying to tell him everything that I needed to get out of my system. I kept on repeating: "I'm staying with you, I'm not leaving you this time."
By the time morning came I was so exhausted I didn't know what to feel anymore. I decided to take a little break and came out into the hallway. I laid down by the window and stared at the rising sun feeling as if I was waiting for my own execution. That's when I saw a cloud appear. It was fluorescent blue sparkling with gold all over. I closed my eyes thinking that I was hallucinating. When I opened them the cloud was still there, happily sparkling with tiny diamond like rays. I thought that it must be Val's soul saying goodbye to me. It gave me hope for an afterlife. It also scared me. I want to stay ME after I die! I’ve worked too hard for who I am. I question so many things now. I always do, but lately it’s much more. I want a change. I need a change. New wallpaper perhaps. New hair style. Another dog? A new chinchilla? I’m tired of being confused and conflicted. I NEED ANSWERS. I want to forget, but I have to remember. Val's death is now a part of me.
I need security of knowledge, but I love uncertainty. I’m waiting. I’m afraid of the future, and yet I can’t wait to welcome it.
***
It’s a Sunday. I feel a bit better today. I still feel the heavy plate pressing against my chest, but life is better. I started painting again.
