Today has been an unusually difficult day. My husband's family left yesterday, and his friend who was visiting left a couple of hours after them, and then we were alone like usual. It is nice to be alone, in my preferred state, but I will miss having his family around.
Today, I did not have much intention of going to my classes. I was going to take my car back to the place where we bought it and they were going to give it a look-over and address any issues. But, I didn't do that. I stayed in bed. I went on the computer for a little while then fell back asleep.
I keep thinking about my brother, in my dreams and when I wake up. I dreamed that I went to visit his old room in the house where we grew up, and I dreamed that it was so messy with soda cans and used plates everywhere. I started cleaning it up, but I was overwhelmed with grief that he would never be able to do it himself and he would never be able to just sit in the middle of it and do nothing. I would never be able to berate him for being messy. None of that. I remember some other strange parts - that there was a giant roach pulled out of some pool's filter, that I bought a cage and filled it with two different birds and a tiny kitten and a hamster, that I downed a bunch of jello shots. I also dreamed that my mom came in to the room and just lied down on her face on the floor because we both realized we were too hurt to move or do anything, but it just made things worse for me. And I dreamed that one of my husband's friends from Australia invited me into her car and prayed over me - just being around her made me feel so much better.
I kind of have some of the parts fuzzed up otherwise, as far as waking up and thinking about things just to end up crying myself back to sleep. I wish that these memories were something I could just rip out and ignore, that I could somehow forget he was ever there or just pretend that he moved away to another place and he was just never in town or online. I wish that so much because this grief is so paralyzing and otherworldly. I wasn't ready for it. I wish that, instead, he had a terminal disease and I could have said some things to him while he was close to death. I wish that he had been in an accident and didn't die on impact but a week later after I was there and I had been able to at least know what was coming. I wish that he had been able to anticipate his own death instead of it stealing him away so fast.
I have so many wishes and so many regrets. Right now I kind of wish the world would end so I could see what is really on the other side and so I could stop grieving for my little brother who was supposed to outlive me by decades. I hate being so selfishly distant from others/the world/reality and stuck on this, but I can't help feeling almost cosmically wronged because of this loss. I know that isn't the truth at all - just a perception because of where I live and my culture. I know people all over the world experience personal loss much worse than mine all the time and with sickening frequency. I just can't rationalize myself out of this, I guess. I can't drown out my issues with alcohol or drugs like some people do. I can't stop fearing that someone close to me is going to die and I am going to lose my sanity. I hate this.