It is widely held that writing is cathartic, that it “provides psychological relief through the open expression of strong emotions.” Personally, I have always turned to writing as a way to sort through my problems or emotions or to capture a thought or feeling. Sometimes the things that float around in our heads and seem so insurmountable become a whole bunch more manageable when written down. Oftentimes, after we strip away the emotion associated with a problem and capture the bare facts, then true risks and potential solutions become apparent. That’s not the case with respect to Kevin’s death. Writing this doesn’t serve as a pressure valve where I can relieve the sadness and despair from his passing. There is no way to strip away the emotion and there is no solution. Fact is, I don’t solve anything by writing this blog. It’s not meant to solve things anyway.
Sometimes actually sitting down to write something can become overwhelming. I write and the tears flow. I type but I can’t see the keyboard for tears. Sometimes the weight of his loss sits so heavily on my shoulders and chest, I bow my head and just let the sorrow wash over me. It may take two or three days to finish off one solitary blog because it is just too painful. It doesn’t make me feel any better, sometimes I feel worse. I don’t stop though, because I feel that writing and expression is an essential part of this process for me. I don’t stop because I feel compelled to capture every part of this journey – I don’t ever want to forget. The depth of my devastation at Kevin’s loss sums up the immensity of my love for the man.
Death, hopefully, produces a blessed oblivion for the one dying, but it devastates those unprepared or unwilling souls that are left behind. For me it has put in me in a horrid, wretched state of mind. I know that I am surrounded by goodness, kindness and charity, but it’s like they exist on a parallel plane, visible yet not accessible to me. I feel that I can’t absorb those gifts even though they are right in front of me. It’s not a lack of gratitude on my part, it’s an inability to receive. This month, the month of June, is a tough one. It’s not getting easier as it nears the end of the month, nor do I expect it to. No one can make it better, a reprieve from my present state of mind has to radiate outwards from me.