Seven Years, Five Months

One year ago today, July, 21, my Grandma passed away. You and I have heard everything you need to say to someone in grieving. I’m grateful for those words. Yet, the frequency and intensity of my tears have prolonged longer and stronger than I had expected.

My family did not foresee my grandma living seven years and five months past her stroke in February 2007. In a way, I’m expelling seven years’ worth of sadness for her seven years of suffering. Because of her stroke, my grandma lost her speech, the ability to control the right side of her body, and some mental capacity.

She was goddamn strong. Nobody could mess with her. When she lost her strength (in a way she didn’t–ask every single person that took care of her, including me), that was a really hard blow from which she could not fully recover. Like I just mentioned in my sidenote, she was still strong. Stubborn would be the word we would have used when she was still alive. She gave up exercising a while after her stroke because she broke (fractured?) her leg when trying to regain her mobility, but she was still unusually strong.

She always enjoyed cleanliness–morning and night routines–so getting her downstairs or into bed was always so straining for the person helping her. Looking back, I wish I let her brush her teeth and shower her for as long as she wanted. But we didn’t. We’d fight, pull, and yell with her nearly everyday. It drained us. She knew and we knew that it was exhausting to sit and wait for her for fifteen minutes to brush her teeth, but cleaning was all she had left. We wouldn’t and couldn’t stay with her and my grandpa the whole day. That made me feel guilty.

I wish I didn’t go to college three hours away so I could help out more often. I wish I didn’t study abroad in Paris for a year so I could visit home. I wish I didn’t get the jobs I got so I could help the family not spend so much money on caregivers. I wanted to sacrifice for her just as much as she had for my brother and me. But that’s not what she wanted for us. She did everything for us so we could take advantage of the opportunities we had. It was because of her (and my other grandparents, and my parents, etc.) that I was privileged enough to get where I am in life. She didn’t want to be a burden.

This is where I put myself in her shoes, and the empathic me might get fucking depressing. Grandma did not want us to remember her like that. I know what she was thinking. I knew a huge part of her wished that she would have died back in 2007. As much as she wanted to see her kids and grandkids be happy, she thought that her still being alive was taking that away. Maybe that’s why she’d scream at us for no reason sometimes–so we’d just go away and remember her the way she was before. Grandma that would arrange the holiday gatherings and cook dinner all the time. Grandma that picked us up from school (and brought us for a long time), drove us around for swim lessons and treats. Grandma that encouraged me to sing and dance (and take embarrassing preschool photos). She felt like she couldn’t give to us anymore. That’s all she wanted to do for us.

I can’t write much more. Just know that when I cry now, that’s why. Suppressing is unhealthy. I should have written this a long time ago. I should have done many things, but all I can do now is be thankful for my life because of her and everyone else that has influenced me.

I love you, Grandma.

Mr. Blue Sky & Mr. Night Become the Empath

When I found out my personality type recently and read about it, I got very emotional. I nearly cried. Why? It felt like someone actually understood me when most everyone else seemed to only say they understood me.

Then, I found out that I was an empath–one that is “affected by other people’s energies [and has] an innate ability to intuitively feel and perceive others”. Side note, I’ll be quoting from this article a bit, which would be great to read also. Reading that, well, now I should be crying. It explains the times I couldn’t find words or think clearly (clouding of consciousness?).

Here are the listeners of life. They can be outgoing, bubbly, enthusiastic and a joy to be in the presence of, as well as highly humorous at the most unusual moments! On the flip side, empaths can be weighted with mood swings that will have others around them want to jump overboard and abandon ship! The thoughts and feelings empaths receive from any and all in their life can be so overwhelming (if not understood) that their moods can fluctuate with lightning speed. One moment they may be delightfully happy and with a flick of the switch, miserable.

Abandoning an empath in the throes of alternating moods can create detrimental effects. A simple return of empathic love–listening and caring compassionately without bias, judgment and/or condemnation–can go an incredibly long way to an empath’s instant recovery. Many empaths don’t understand what is occurring within them. They literally have no idea that another person’s emotions are now felt, as one’s own and reflected outwardly. They are confused as to how one moment all was well, and then the next, they feel so depressed, alone, etc. The need to understand the possibilities of empath connection is a vital part of the empaths journey for themselves and for those around them.

Overwhelming emotions–>confusion–>mood swings. I was just about to say that I apologize for that, but then it would mean I was apologizing for a part of me I can’t control. Therefore, something would be wrong with me. So… I’m not going to apologize for that. I’ll just move onto how maybe this has (probably) affected my health instead.

Empaths are more inclined to pick up another’s feelings and project it back without realizing its origin in the first place. Talking things out is a major factor in releasing emotions in the learning empath. Empaths can develop an even stronger degree of understanding so that they can find peace in most situations. The downside is that empaths may bottle up emotions and build barriers sky-high so as to not let others know of their innermost thoughts and/or feelings. This withholding of emotional expression can be a direct result of a traumatic experience, an expressionless upbringing, or simply being told as a child, “Children are meant to be seen and not heard!”

Without a doubt, this emotional withholding can be detrimental to one’s health, for the longer one’s thoughts and/or emotions aren’t released, the more power they build. The thoughts and/or emotions can eventually becoming explosive, if not crippling. The need to express oneself honestly is a form of healing and a choice open to all. To not do so can result in a breakdown of the person and result in mental/emotional instability or the creation of a physical ailment, illness or disease.

It’s like how people are prone to getting sick when they’re stressed. I might just be stressed all the time because I’m internalizing everyone else’s woes. Hm, no wonder why I was always sick in college.

I needed to get off of Facebook. Many are often yelling out to the world how they’re not doing enough good for society. You guys should be like ME and care about [blahblahblah] to better your/someone else’s life otherwise you’re a sheep! If everyone’s doing that, we’re all sheep, and we’re just pointing out that we are all bad people. I needed to get away from that. I need to surround myself with positivity and optimism. Impossible, I know, but I’ll try. We all don’t want people telling us we’re invalidated or a bad person or wrong because we like/dislike or care/not care about something. Just because someone doesn’t live their life like yours or have the same beliefs/preferences, you don’t need to judge them. Anyway, enough of that rant again. Just thinking about it makes my stomach uneasy.

So here’s my cry out to… whomever. Be a better listener. Try to put yourself in someone else’s shoes and empathize with them. It’s fine if you can understand what they’re feeling, but if you try to feel what they’re feeling, they won’t be so alone. Stop telling people they’re just like everyone else, that you’ve been there before so it’s normal. Even if it’s more or less true. Sometimes, just smiling, hugging, being with someone does more than saying that shit. “Less is more.”

Perdu

I’m forcing myself to write because it’s one of those days where I cannot think straight again. I know what I feel. I can’t find the words. If I was to express myself through interpretive dance right now, I would be in a fetal position. If I was to find a song that captures what is on my mind, it would be the Jeopardy theme. The goddamn Jeopardy theme. And it would play the whole f*cking day.

I probably should climb tonight. Even if I’m feeling lost, I won’t feel lost and stuck. I guess it’s better to feel like I’m climbing my way through this debacle than to stagnantly wander within myself.

Since my cloudy thoughts are clearly preventing me from writing anything significant, I’ll start bulleting.

• Some people are more audio-oriented or visually-oriented, especially when it comes to learning. I think there are some of us that are tactically-oriented.
• Jake watches TV shows to do something mindless after a tough day at work. I confess that my version of that mindlessness is playing Candy Crush Soda.
• Instead of playing games, I really should be studying. It’s really difficult to start when files are a mess, though.
• I haven’t been working on my one arm pull-ups.
• I may need to sacrifice a bit of climbing to focus on the AREs.
• I absolutely love taking pictures of Jake’s artwork. And editing!

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