There's Dred Scott, the African-American slave who unsuccessfully sued to win his freedom.
Of course, there's always the dread lock.
But then there's just good ol' dread, that feeling of fear and/or uneasiness you get in anticipation of something bad. Frankly, I wish I had more Judge Dread or even dreadlocks rather than feeling regular dread.
Nevertheless, that's where I am. Every morning for the last ten days or so, I've opened my eyes feeling like something bad is going to happen that day. Every minor thing that happens makes me think, "This is it. Here it comes." Parker developed a rash a couple of nights ago and I was convinced she was seriously sick. (She wasn't. She's a baby. They get rashes.) There's no logical reason for it but I just feel like something bad is coming. Usually, it wears off as I go through my day but it's exhausting to live like this, you know?
It's better when I have things to do. Teaching really helps because it's an arena in which I feel very comfortable and confident and I have very specific things that I have to get done. Having too much time on my hands is bad news. The day after Thanksgiving, I drove to Grand Island, Nebraska to meet my brother, Dan, so we could trade cars. (I was returning my Mom's van and Dan brought me Dad's Rendezvous which Suzy and I are buying.)
Nine or ten hours of nothing but fields and random, nameless fear is a rough way to spend a holiday. I obsessed about my job, my mom's health, my health, Suzy's health, living in Tonica, my woeful lack of progress on my dissertation, my upcoming translation exam, the girls growing up, the fact that Parker still isn't talking yet, and on and on. It was really good to see Dan but being in unfamiliar surroundings, with another day of driving waiting for me, it was hard to shake the feelings of dread and just relax.
The semester is coming to an end in just a week and a half. I've really been looking forward to that but given my reaction to having a lot of free time recently, I'm not as fired up as I was. I do hope to dedicate some real time to creating a draft of my prospectus. If I can get a big chunk of that done over Christmas, it will really help get some momentum for the rest of the dissertation.
I don't like feeling as though I'm damaged goods and I definitely don't want my dad's death and my reaction to it to become the defining elements of my life. It's a big deal and I realize that trying to downplay it too much won't be good for my mental or emotional health. But at the same time, I don't want to be that guy who can only talk/think about that one thing.
5 comments:
I'm dreading winter. Maybe that's the bad thing that is coming...
But really, you are not damaged goods. Far from it. We all love you. Be gentle with yourself and patient with the process.
M ... I think you are expecting too much of yourself too quickly. Grief wears many coats and fear is one of them. Fear that you will forget your Dad except in that final setting. Fear that others you love may now die. Fear that you yourself may die. Fear as to the how, and when, and readiness of that is a fear of its own.
These are fears that the Lord has already addressed for you. With his atonement he has already born that fear. In him and through the comfort he can offer, this will pass. Be patient. We are praying for you and keep your name on the prayer roll specifically, and with Suzy as well.
Got your darling family's christmas card the other day. What a great line you are carrying on in the Brown/Day family. I'm certain that your mom and dad are proud. Love ya.
I was that person for a long long time...talking/thinking about one thing. In the end, everything turned out fine and I'm a happy, healthy lady. But I think the weird paranoia about things happening to those you love never quite goes away after an event like the one you went through. I'm still dealing with random worries 13 years later. It gets less severe, though. I love you, Mark.
In other news, I'm getting married in April! And yes, I've already freaked out many time thinking that something terrible might happen to him. Neuroticism! Woohoo!
P.S. I'm with Suzy when she says to be patient with the process. I remember some classmate telling me how sorry he was to hear about my mom's death. I said, "Oh, it's ok. It's been like two months now". I can't believe I said that! But at the time I hated the attention and I just wanted to hurry up and be fine again. But it takes time.
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