Staring

I still wake up to Lizzy sick, dying, or dead every day. I cannot seem to escape it. I spend so much of my day staring–at the ceiling, at Cecilia, at the bedspread, at my hands, or at nothing at all. When I cannot distract myself or when I cannot convince myself to do something else, then the default is staring. What does it mean when your brain is so busy or so burdened that your body just ceases movement? It’s like the concerns of the body become so secondary that there is nothing physical seems to matter. Your brain and what is happening in it become the sole realities.

I don’t know if this is a form of mental illness or just another mask of grief. As you can probably tell, I don’t know much of anything about anything anymore. I know that I’m tired all of the time, and I know that I spend a lot of my day staring, trying to either escape or cope with what’s in my head. I know that I am not successful at this. I know that my days follow this structure:

1. Start to do the thing (insert: laundry, dishes, making food, making the bed, taking a shower, etc.)
2. Memory of Lizzy dead, dying, or alive surfaces
3. Stop doing the thing
4. Wonder what is the point of anything
5. Look at Cecilia
6. Remember the point
7. Resume doing the thing

I have said from the beginning of this that just existing is work. Nothing about that has changed. What has changed is the speed at which I can do things now. Right after I lost her, I had to take it minute by minute. Take a bite of food; chew the food; swallow the food. Try to repeat until you will absolutely throw up if you continue. And still I could only finish 1/3-1/2 a plate of food. I can finish a plate of food now without my sisters prompting me to eat. I can even make myself meals. Small victories.

But the staring continues. The wondering why, the stopping, and the reminding myself that Cecilia is the point is a continuous process. It must happen fifteen times a day. And every time it happens, it is laborious.

I feel so tired I can barely think. My eyes have that heavy, swollen feeling where they weigh so much, it gives you a headache. I don’t know what or who I am. I just keep doing the things. Start, stop, and resume. Start, stop, and resume.

Repeat until insane.