These entries begin after Anna’s funeral and cremation in July 2016. They are based on text messages, email and journal entries. Anna and Conal had been together since 1978.
January 2017:
I HAVE tried to write this entry for weeks. My brain has reservations about writing about the past seven months. It doesn’t want to re-visit those dark days. I’m not exactly enamored with the prospect either. As I write, the Cowardly Side of my brain is trying to distract me: It is telling me to check out the internet, to go to the beach, to go spend money, to take a nap …to do anything rather than write.
Yet I will keep writing.
Why I am writing? I know a lot of people are worrying about me. For months after Anna died I felt like I was wading chest-deep in treacle. I knew I was slowly making progress, but it was slow and tiring.
I knew what it was like to be Normal, or what was Normal for me. I knew if I walked/cycled a few kilometres that I felt good, but that feeling faded after a few hours. And I’d be there struggling to get into second gear.
Slow and plodding along was my New Normal.
People would ask how I was? I’d reply: “I managed today”. I was managing. This is better than Surviving. And better than the functioning zombie of July.
The turning point came in late November when my GP noticed my thyroid gland was functioning properly. In simple term, it was producing enough of a certain hormone, so my brain had to produce the hormone. Really it was only producing an emergency supply – the thyroid really needed to get back to normal. So my GP prescribed a daily half-dose.
I am confident about the future. This is illustrated by the fact that last weekend I had my first haircut and beard trim since June. It started out as Public Display of Grieving, then developed into a Warning Sign that I was still “fucked in the head”. Now? I don’t know.
The effect was almost immediate. After the second day I experience my first Heat Flush – I had become hormonal. Wow, it was strange to experience something I had no control over. Something that women have to deal with – sometimes on an almost daily basis. It gave me a new insight.
Within a week the cumulative effect was fantastic. I started to wake up positive, cheery and motivated. My mood had improved so much that even I noticed it. “Is this what most people regard as Normal” I asked. This was a major step.
I felt like I had been sleeping for months, or more accurately, living in a dream world. Or surrounded by fog, and a strong breeze has blown the mist away. I could see clearly.
Grief was like pushing a giant ball of shit uphill. With my thyroid not working, it was worse. Much worse. Think about pushing that giant ball uphill, with a rubber spoon.
It has been six weeks since I start taking tablets and the world seems brighter. I’ve stopped a lot of the navel gazing, I’m able to do a lot more in life. I’m more motivated.
It has been over six months since Anna died. A major disappointment for a lot of us.
The rest of us are alive and slowly rebuilding our lives.
I am confident about the future. This is illustrated by the fact that last weekend I had my first haircut and beard trim since June. It started out as Public Display of Grieving, then developed into a Warning Sign that I was still “fucked in the head”. Now?
I don’t know. My plan was to remain HedgeMan for the mourning period of one-year-and-one day – but I had a opt-out clause that I could get a cut … if it was a matter of emergency, ie job interview. Yes it feels better, and cooler.
There is also a box with hundreds of photos, with a dozen empty albums, just waiting for me to fill.
Last week I dropped in a roll of film in to be developed which contain the final film photos of Anna.
I know the young man behind the counter and explained that nothing must go wrong with this roll of film.
Nothing.
He said he would treat it was precious.
A PUBLIC DISPLAY OF GRIEVING…
SHOWING GRIEF: In July 2016, after the death of his partner, Conal didn’t get a beard trim or a hair cut for months.
When men grieve …
Men who deny and repress their real feelings of grief may suffer serious long-term problems.
Warning signs to look after include:
- Chronic depression, withdrawal and low self-esteem,
- Deterioration in relationships with friends and family
- Physical complaints such as headaches, fatigue and backaches
- Chronic anxiety, agitation and restlessness
- Chemical abuse or dependence
- Indifference toward others, insensitivity and workaholism
If you see any of these symptoms, talk to him about your concern. Find helping resources for him in his community, such as support groups and grief counselors.
You can’t force your friend to seek help, but you can make it easier for him to seek help.
