From the Secret Widow Files.
Hmmm.. to blog, or not to blog, about this one?
To blog, I think, but with a disclaimer.
As we’ve discussed, really, dead people don’t feel or think anything.
If this post is going to bother you- it concerns activities that took place after Tony passed away that a good, respectable, grieving widow probably should not admit to- please don’t read it.
I was so deeply in shock After what happened with, after he died. Nothing felt real- in fact, the world was totally surreal. I was so caught deep inside my own mind- I felt like I watching the world through a thick, murky pane of glass, while I lived in the past. While I lived the last half hour of Tony’s conscious life, again and again. While I live the 100 hours in the ICU one hundred times.
Numb. The only thing I could feel was pain so deep within my soul I felt like biting myself, tearing at my hair.
Whole body experiences- anything with a bit of a rush- they were the only things that could break through the fog. I’ve said before, I used to cut myself, just to feel something, just to watch it bleed.
Cutting myself didn’t even appeal. It wasn’t enough, not enough close to enough, to break that all consuming, all surrounding pane of glass.
Much more than that was needed. Swimming was good, the break over cold water over my head, the crack of it as it passed my ears. The exertion of muscles working against liquid gravity.
Piercings were good. A pain, intense and deep, on the outside. Something to focus on, to draw the pain away from the inside, just for the tiniest bit.
And sex was good.
I won’t go into detail, except to say it was anonymous enough, safe enough, and helped. And I closed my eyes and pretended it was husband and the illusion was destroyed by an unfamiliar weight, an unfamiliar scent.
They say sex is an antidote to death- if you want proof of life, what better way is there? If you want to feel, deeply, something other than pain.. what better way is there?
Judge, if you dare. Beyond caring. I know- it’s damn disrespectful. Whatever. The funniest thing about that phenomena I talked about- how a dead person would feel about a situation, a moot point if ever there was one- is that the dead person’s feelings seem to take preference over those of living.
Really- it’s all about getting through. Respectful, or otherwise. This is truth.