Yes, I can still laugh

Oh my, it’s been three days since I’ve been inspired to write anything and I’m getting that “must write something” feeling.

I hesitate to continue on with the misery I feel over my dying brother. The seemingly never ending agony of not knowing when–but knowing sometime soon. I’ve gotten to the point where I just want it to end and feel sickened to have such a sentiment. I suspect that it’s not a totally unusual feeling to have, but that people in general won’t say something like that. Can anyone attest to that?

I suppose I should go back to California and spend more time with him. I wouldn’t feel this way if I was with him. (that thought just came to mind and it really does sound good. It’s just that staying with family brings its own problems–besides this particular brother the rest of my family is hard to deal with)

I’m once again being visited by PMS. It’s insane how everything gets harder. Of late what is particularly difficult is that I imagine my marriage is completely fucked. I don’t feel like that when I’m not premenstrual. But when I am, that feeling is a self-fulfilling prophesy in that I’m not so kind to my husband who I imagine is doing all the wrong things to support me. I’m a rather demanding bitch right now. Bitch isn’t really fair–but I am needy as hell and completely self-absorbed. It’s not pretty and it wouldn’t be easy for anyone to deal with.

Anyway–that will be my simple check-in for the day. I still do my daily rounds to everyone’s blogs and that is a help. Leaving comments is good even if I’m not writing on my blog. It seems I may not be as active on this blog for a bit, though do check in, because I’ve felt this way so many times and surprised myself and been able to write about something that really moves me in spite of my misery. And when that happens my misery lifts for a bit. So I do hope it comes to that again. This blog is still so new and before I started it I did nothing on such a regular basis.

That I’ve written something almost every day for 3 months is a huge and exciting accomplishment and I keep thinking I won’t keep it up. It’s been so rewarding to reach out there and have all of you come back to me with your insights and support. I was never able to write a journal. I needed an audience. This is so damn therapeutic for me. Amanda at “This Side of Reason” shares this sentiment. (Read the post she links to as well.) I’ve picked up the same sentiment from other bloggers out there who I’ve corresponded with.

It seems that I’ve found a support group out in the ether spread across the English speaking world, that was impossible to find in my little rural community where if people come together it’s simply totally random. We connect out here and it’s not so random. We choose one another. We find our kindred spirits. The internet is pretty damned amazing. And blogging is better than any forum I’ve found. And like Amanda said, it’s better than TV. I do, indeed, watch a lot less TV. It’s pretty much down to John Stewart and Stephen Colbert. It’s so good to laugh!

4 thoughts on “Yes, I can still laugh

  1. thank you anonymous,
    That was what I was hoping to hear from someone. I’ve not had the opportunity to talk to others who have gone through this pain and I though I suspected it was normal I do have feelings of guilt about it. I feel like I really need to get back to California and spend time with him because it was easier to be with him and enjoy the time with him. From afar I just feel helpless and unable to connect. The phone doesn’t work when someone essentially just needs you to “be” with them. It’s impossible on the phone.


  2. Hi, Gianna,

    When my father was dying of a kind of brain cancer, toward the end, I had very similar feelings and worried that it was a sign of some failing on my part. I went to a couple of support groups for people with family members who were dying in the hospice where my dad was. I was definitely not alone in my feelings – either the longing for it to be over or the worry that it was a failing.

    Your mental anguish at the coming loss of your brother is so similar to the experiences of others who have lost loved ones to chronic illnesses. At the end of that long, hard slide down, longing for the beloved person’s release, peace, and end to suffering is universal.


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