Tomorrow is the day of the funeral, a day I have been dreading for some time now.
Of all the people who have died in my life, this is the most affecting. My grandma’s death has really been difficult for me and I think part of it may be the relationship between us. For as long as I can remember I have been close to my mother’s parents. Something that was always a big part of my childhood was visiting my grandparents house on a Sunday. My grandma would always cut a piece of meat off of their Sunday dinner and give it to me. To “test” I was the official meat tester.
Maybe it’s my new found ability to express my feelings, or having an outlet where I feel comfortable expressing them, But, after my granddad and my cousin died I didn’t really talk to anyone about how I felt. I don’t know what has made me want to write about this event so much and I realise I am probably boring people discussing it.
All I know is I am just not ready to say goodbye yet. I keep thinking I am going to see her again, I know that is normal. But, I just have no idea what I am doing right now.
The build up to the funeral has been awkward. Whilst my mother has been directly involved with almost everything. including criticising her siblings for their involvement. I have hid and avoided conversations, just so I don’t have to think about it. Today I stayed at work an hour later to stay away from my house.
When my grandma was in hospital my mum had a month off of work because she was stressed. I get it, But, we were all stressed. Now, I am not going to be the person to criticise her choices and the fact that she got time off. But, I hate the way she talked about everyone else like they were horrible people.
None of us expected this to happen and it would be cliche to say if I knew I’d have been there everyday, anyone would. But it’s not right to live your life that way, and I don’t think my grandma would want us to live that way.
It frustrates me that my mum seems to think she is the only one that is upset, she was just on the phone to my aunt and was getting annoyed because my aunt didn’t know who was going in the second funeral car, because she insists on having the phone on the loudest possible volume, I heard my aunt say she had a headache my mum replies “I’ve had a headache for 3 months!” why does she always have to 1up people?
This week has been hard, it’s been an extreme version of a regular week for me.
I mean, do you know how draining it is to have a fantastic day at work only to come home to a house where people are staring blankly at various screens, virtually ignoring your presence, hardly grunting a hello as you enter?
I have had a good day and I want to talk about it, but no. I am told “SHHHH” because the 24-hour news channel is repeating the same news story it has all day. Not because my mum wants to listen to it. She just doesn’t want to listen to me.
And this isn’t a new thing, this isn’t a “my mums still upset about my grandmother’s death” thing. It is something that has always happened. I remember telling my mum about a book I was reading once, I could see her eyes glaze over. I don’t know why I bother sometimes. I know it’s an autism thing to talk a lot. But I do know when people are purposely not listening to me or getting annoyed. I’m not saying I can always stop talking. But I do get offended. And it’s not just my mum that does it.
It’s strange, Every evening, I sit down, (or lie down) and I think I don’t want to go to work tomorrow. I don’t have the energy for tomorrow. Even if I sleep for three days straight I will still be too tired for work.
and then I go to bed, and I go to sleep and when I wake up I don’t want to go to work still. Until maybe an hour before I need to be there, and then there is nothing I want more than to be at work. And I am happy when I am there. Or maybe I am not, maybe being at work is just easier because I am forced to pretend I am happy.
Sometimes I feel that work is the only place I can go where I don’t have to think about my shitty life.
It’s frustrating, so damn frustrating. I can’t talk about anything without being made to feel guilty for making a noise. Today I walk in the house, nobody spoke so I said “hello” I just about got a “hi” back. I walked into the front room to find my brother with his headphones on at his laptop and my mum staring at the TV. I started to talk about the immense pain of my stupid wisdom tooth locking my jaw. my mums response? “I KNOW.” so I stopped talking.
I have no energy for this anymore. I wish I could blame it on my grandmother’s death and her still being upset. But it happened before she died.
But to finish this post I will admit something, I cut myself again. I added a “tiger stripe” to my arm. I am an idiot. I was just so angry and I couldn’t stop myself this time.
I am hoping that on Friday everything will start to get easier.
The Elephant in the Room