Ghosts of Grief and Echoes of Old Patterns

I’m finding that grief is a funny thing. Funny “queer’, not funny “ha-ha”  to quote one of my favorite movies, Sling Blade. I’ve spent more time crying, even sobbing on a couple of occasions this past week over the unexpected story of my dad’s final moments 17 years ago, than I thought possible given how long he’s been gone. It’s been draining and I’m feeling some residual sadness. Then there was the Facebook post from my cousin Gloria on Tuesday with a picture of herself looking so much like my Aunt Julie (her mother and my mom’s younger sister) that it startled me. My Aunt Julie, who I simply called Julie or “Juicy” because she was only 12 years older than me and much more of a friend to me than the Queen Aunts on my dad’s side of the family. Julie died about 10 years ago, unexpectedly from diabetes complications. Another loved one I didn’t realize I would never talk to again after speaking to her on her birthday in 2005. I spent A LOT of childhood weekends at Julie’s house while my mom was going out. I was the flower child at her wedding. I was five, she was seventeen. So seeing her daughter, Gloria, looking so much like Julie made me feel like I was being visited by ghosts this week.

There was different kind of ghost contact I experienced this week which poked a little at some regret and grief. I received 2 emails from a former friend. The first one was clearly one of those hacked emails that try to get you to click on a link to nowhere or a virus. I deleted it immediately. The second one was definitely a deliberate attempt to contact me. Nothing about renewing the friendship, only an inquiry over a lost article. I responded I didn’t have it and that seemed to be the end of it. Except now that situation has been on my mind, just when things were fading to black.

In the past couple of days, I’ve been feeling a sense of stagnant deja vu. I hate feeling the way I did 9 years ago when I worked for a different company that measured me by numbers and metrics, that defined me by the goals I’m not meeting. That’s how it’s become where I work now and it’s understood at all levels, including management that it’s going to get worse. I know I’m a different woman now than I was then. I know it, but I’m just feeling discouraged about my ability to move on from here. I’m so much better equipped now to handle this better than just quitting and cashing in my 401K like I did years ago. Yet, I still feel powerless and helpless. I tell my friends all the time that feelings aren’t facts, but DAMN. This shit is demoralizing. I’ve been speaking my Mission and Vision into existence, into intention but for some reason I feel like I’m faltering. I’m afraid and unsure about how to take the next indicated step. And I don’t know how I got here so quickly. Just last week I was feeling sure and now… I’m questioning so many things right now, most of all myself. 

Ok, so I know I’m really tired which means I need to get some sleep. Perhaps I will reach out to my spiritual advisor this weekend instead of waiting until Monday. I’m supposed to go to a Janet Jackson concert tomorrow night and I really don’t want to go. In the past, I would just not show up. That’s what I want to do, not show up.