Thursday
Oct202011
I Am Not Allowed Detachment Now
Thursday, October 20, 2011
For the last two days, I have had a tightness in my chest. I'm distracted. I'm depressed with a twist of unplaced worry.
I thought this was my usual fall weirdness, the kind I feel every year that translates the skittering of leaves outside as a death knell for all that is well and good in the world. Something about that self-diagnosis didn't sit right, though, and then the inside of my mouth began to ache.
The inside of my mouth nags at me when I am feeling some kind of non-physical pain to which I am not paying the proper attention. I am the local queen of denial around these parts. I often won't notice that something is up with me until my anxiety has inflicted me with numbness in my extremities, apocalyptic dreams, and painful outbreaks.
It's not like the reason for my anxiety was hiding under any rocks. I am travelling to my hometown over the weekend to spend time with family and attend my grandfather's memorial service. He died, he's dead, and I obviously have feelings about that which I am not expressing. I know this, because the roof of my mouth just ahead of my throat is raw and red.
This used to happen to my throat at church every Sunday when we sang hymns. Hymns fester the sorrow out of me, and there will be more than a few of them this weekend. Goddamn.
I used to be able to avoid everything all the time by chasing down the bottoms of pint glasses, but now that I can't do that anymore, my body won't let me get away with the avoidance. It sent me a rash of canker sores when he died. They bloomed into broad, white heads that bled when I sucked at them in my sleep.
I am not allowed detachment now, if my actual, flesh-and-blood mouth has anything to say about it. Goddamn.
I thought this was my usual fall weirdness, the kind I feel every year that translates the skittering of leaves outside as a death knell for all that is well and good in the world. Something about that self-diagnosis didn't sit right, though, and then the inside of my mouth began to ache.
The inside of my mouth nags at me when I am feeling some kind of non-physical pain to which I am not paying the proper attention. I am the local queen of denial around these parts. I often won't notice that something is up with me until my anxiety has inflicted me with numbness in my extremities, apocalyptic dreams, and painful outbreaks.
It's not like the reason for my anxiety was hiding under any rocks. I am travelling to my hometown over the weekend to spend time with family and attend my grandfather's memorial service. He died, he's dead, and I obviously have feelings about that which I am not expressing. I know this, because the roof of my mouth just ahead of my throat is raw and red.
This used to happen to my throat at church every Sunday when we sang hymns. Hymns fester the sorrow out of me, and there will be more than a few of them this weekend. Goddamn.
I used to be able to avoid everything all the time by chasing down the bottoms of pint glasses, but now that I can't do that anymore, my body won't let me get away with the avoidance. It sent me a rash of canker sores when he died. They bloomed into broad, white heads that bled when I sucked at them in my sleep.
I am not allowed detachment now, if my actual, flesh-and-blood mouth has anything to say about it. Goddamn.
categorized in family & pets, health, personal history and tagged in death, grandfather, grandpa, grandparents, grief, grieving, health, mental health
family & pets, health, personal history and tagged in death, grandfather, grandpa, grandparents, grief, grieving, health, mental health 
Reader Comments (22)
I wish I had some advice to offer, but I'm not so good at the whole "expression emotions" thing either. Hang in there and do what you need to do.
I don't think you need to express your emotions, you need to feel them, and not detach, and then let what ever reaction that happens, happen. Let it be, Let it be. And you will not detach.
Sucks, eh?
I can handle anger. Fury? Bring it.
But pain?
It's good that you're going home. At least it's always good for me when I spend all the memorial time I can. I just hope they have a lot of soothing ginger ale on hand so you won't be in pain.
I feel you. My grandfather died on September 20th, which happens to be my birthday. No matter how lucky we were to have them for so long, we're never truly ready to let them go.
Oh, my dear, I'm so sorry. I experienced this very thing in July when my Opa (my mom's dad) passed away. It's so hard to say goodbye to someone who meant so much to you and had such a huge impact on your life. I wish peace for you and your family as you go through this hard time. xo
Oh, poor girl. I feel you... I'm so sorry. Hoping you get over this next slope with a minimum of canker sores.
The body knows what the head sometimes refuses to acknowledge. I felt it when my mother passed away. Sending you strength.
I'm sorry.
I hope you find comfort, and peace.
Therapists always talk about feelings like they are some sort of supernatural force that you have to feel and they will come back and bite you in the ass--it's sort of nonsense but a bit true. Detachment doesn't get you anywhere. Eventually, it comes to your doorstep. Especially grief.
Grief really is a mofo. I think it is actually impossible to avoid. It is one of those a person has to feel. Other emotions can get changed or deflected but not this one, I don't think.
And I'm very sorry about that.
I'm sorry you are sad.
If I'm happy or joyful or mad or even mildly pissed off the world knows it. (I do not have a poker face) But if I'm hurt or sad or scared or anxious I clam up, I internalize it all. I ache like I have the flu but you'll never see me cry in person, I save that all for my blog. I'm 38 years old and I've never found the strength to say, "I hurt" out loud. (((hugs)))
Detachment is a form of self-denial but the body pretty much always feels what the mind and heart refuse to. You probably need to acknowledge and own your feelings for your canker sores to disappear - think of your tears and pain as a way of paying homage to your beloved grandfather. I still cry for mine occasionally, and it's been 15 years since his death. He was the single most influential figure in my life. Sharing your pain. xo
Hang in there! this is yet another step towards living life on your own terms! Sending you strength and a big virtual hug!
I don't know what else to say but I'm sorry. Let it out, you deserve to grieve ♥
Painful all around. So sorry.
Detachment, for me, is a learned behavior - a mode of survival - that I find extraordinarily difficult to unlearn. It's become my default and I'm not sure how I change that.
My godmother/aunt passed away quite recently. She was one of my life mothers. I am dealing with it/reeling with it/(not dealing with it?) less well than when both my parents died. For the past two years, I took her sister, age 88, and my crazy dog to the nursing home to visit her.
We were part of the fabric of the place and now the seams have unraveled. There is a huge ugly gaping hole and I do not know how not to detach.
Just so you know I'm here with you.
Hope you can find some comfort in your family. You're in my prayers.
I am sorry. First, the physical: I break out in shingles IN MY MOUTH when the stress is too much. So damn painful. Second: detachment is just delaying the inevitable. It hurts no matter what, but lately, I have found that the delay is nearly worse than the actual source of the worry. I am thinking of you. *hugs*
Canker sores are my body's way of telling me to sit the hell up and pay attention to something I'm stressed about. It sucks.
Sorry you're having a rough time. Embrace the anxiety, then kick it to the curb.
You are one of my favorite people, you know that?
And you're clever, too, because you're exactly right -- detachment is not the way to go here.
Wishing you whatever it takes to get through this.