Friday, October 22, 2010

Thoughts on Loss

It's funny how your brain needs to reorganize your thoughts when something big in your life changes.

When my Pap Paw died in September it took me several weeks to realize that he was really gone. I had to re-frame everything about parts of my life. At breakfast, lunch and dinner I would remember and grieve. I would think of summer and think, "I'll have black-eyed peas and fresh corn from the garden," and then suddenly have to remember that he was gone... A sale on Bluebell sparked the usual thought of "If Pap Paw sees this he'll buy all 5!" Each time I would have to remind myself, "No, he's gone. That is over now."

The same is with when you break up with someone. You have to go through each part of your mind and re-label "boyfriend" as something else; he is now ex-boyfriend, my ex, or just his name. I run across things and think "I'll have to show/do that with/talk about it with him... shit."

I wonder if my brain is physically re-organizing itself, growing new paths, forcibly pruning the incorrect ones. Maybe that's why it's so hard.

Thursday, October 21, 2010

RE: Letter to Me from My Stomach

Dear Stomach,

You can pretend that we've gotten along fairly well, but you're fooling yourself.

In reference to "the time I made you throw up in front of everyone in school," that was one time? It wasn't every day? Really?

You're just too sensitive. A piece of lettuce in pudding does not make normal stomachs turn themselves inside-out and throw everything on the ground in panic.

If I wasn't in a committed relationship I would divorce you.


Letter to Me From My Stomach

Dear Hannah,

I know that in the past we have gotten along fairly well. We've had some upsets (like the time I made you throw up in front of everyone in school) but we've had our good times too.

I just wanted to let you know that while you enjoyed drinking $1 doubles that nice man bought you (3 of them, you should write your liver a thank you note) following it up with frozen yogurt was disrespectful. Like, you know I don't like that, and you throw it on top of liquor? You repugnant bitch.

So, enjoy all the passive-aggressive signals I'll be sending you for the next few hours.


Your Stomach