Grief and Guilt

It has been a big emotion type of day. My husband and I are now in our new home after being nomads for 5-6 weeks. We still have a lot to do. We don’t have about 90% of our belongings yet, so those will need to be moved in and unpacked as well. That doesn’t stress me out, though. Admittedly, because I don’t carry nearly as many things as my husband does. He’s been immensely productive in the past 3 months. And that is where everything came back to smack me in the face again today… thinking about 2020 and the past 3 months especially.

Before my shower today, I was feeling myself. Not literally, but in a “damn girl, look at your hair. Omg you are so cute” kind of way. I cherish those moments when I look in the mirror and like what I see. My thoughts are mostly neutral, so when I have an appreciative thought, I relish it. I was flying high.

And then in the shower I started thinking about all the changes that 2020 has brought. I started thinking about a stress scale that I have taken a couple times before in school. It measured the amount of stressful events you’ve had in the past year (I think), even when those events are happy ones, like getting married. This year, we’ve had a pandemic, which severely altered personal events, my work life, socialization, and public interactions. It’s created a need for adaptation all of those areas. 2020 is an election year and everything seems extremely politicized. We sold our house with no where to go and are still in the process of moving in. The west coast once again was on fire. I’m continuing my journey in my spiritual awakening, which has changed the dynamic of many of my relationships. None of those things feel stressful to me, though I’m sure it has some sort of effect on my stress hormones. In those regards 2020 was conquerable.

The event that pushed 2020 over the edge was the loss of my best little friend. 2020 took Thor away from me and I feel like I will never forgive it for that. I miss him when I drink my coffee outside. I miss him when I get out of the shower and expect him to be sitting there waiting for me. The grief just hits me sometimes, though I welcome the grief. A part of me feels guilty when I haven’t thought about him in awhile… when I haven’t reminisced about him. A part of me needs that pain so that I feel like I’m honoring him.

I still feel guilt and regret. I know that Thor knew he was loved. I know that he loved us as well. But I think he was bored a lot of the time. I regret not taking him for more walks. I regret not taking him out more. I struggle between knowing that we gave him a better life than where he came from, but not feeling like I did enough. His companionship, his love, his trust, his energy… he was so perfect. He deserved everything.

I feel guilty for locking him out of the room so I could sleep that last day. I feel guilty for not cuddling him more…. for not laying on his bed with him and letting him be the little spoon while he passed.

I’m so sorry, buddy. I love you and miss you so much.