Kleenex, a photo by Nele en Jan on Flickr.
I thought for sure I was headed for some sort of binge today. I could feel a intense vibrating inside my body, which in years past was almost a precursor to a mindless snarfing down of any edible thing in my path. Today was the funeral of a friend and colleague of mine, who died last week. But I’ve been numb for a week, numb and busy and somehow not really able to comprehend that her death (unexpected and tragic) was true.
This morning as I prepared to go to the service, I knew that I was going to have to face what I had tried to avoid all week. And as I said, I could feel this vibration inside me, this out of control shaking that in the past could only be calmed with food. This feeling that I could fly apart into a thousand pieces if I didn’t somehow anesthetize myself.
I was nervous. But also somewhat resigned. It was going to happen. A voice inside me didn’t care. It was ready. I went into the service feeling defeated, but also a sense of “Whatever it takes to get through this.”
Soon after I got there one of my dearest friends came and sat next to me. I could feel myself starting to fall apart. Seeing all the people who loved and cared for this person. Someone came up to me and said, “You have to keep it together for all the rest of us.” I think I literally squeaked, “ME?” and then shook my head like, oh no, I’m not taking that job. Because I have been keeping it together all week – in meetings, on the phone, in the office, at my work. And I knew today that it was all going to come down.
As I listened to my friend’s family members- her brother and sister and dear friends, and our mutual boss and friend – speak about her, I could feel myself slowly “leaking.” The tears were dripping down. And then finally one of my camp counselors got up to speak and I just freaking LOST IT. I sobbed totally out of control.
It was a beautiful, wrenching, excruciating and incredible service. And when it was over and I got up to go to the catered luncheon, I knew that I was not going to binge out. That vibrating feeling? Had been totally calmed after I had my good cry.
It was one of those moments.
May 4, 2011 at 1:20 am
(((hug))) I’m so sorry to hear about your friend’s death. I hear ya, some things can only be resolved with a big, sobbing cry. And sheesh, if you can’t be relieved from “keeping it together” at a funeral, where can you?
Love and peace to you, Susan!
May 4, 2011 at 1:20 am
Awwwwww – my dear friend – I’m sorry you hurt….
I am reminded of a time I was lying on a mat at a psuedo aikido training – supposed to be still and quiet and peaceful – and the tears just ran…. The instructor said,”When we feel, we move and shift….”
Let the tears and quivering happen…. as painful as it is…. it will always shift.
May 4, 2011 at 2:14 am
Oh, dear sweet Susan, I am so sorry about the loss of your friend. I am thinking that the big cry you had was what you needed and not really the food.
Glad you made it through today. But may I just voice a warning? Your friend is gone. You will feel this loss always. You made it through today, but tomorrow or the next day you might again feel the crush of loss, but hang in there. Ok? You inspire me!
May 4, 2011 at 6:22 am
really all I have to say.
(besides the fact Im still horrified people did not dress accordingly. I have that to add as well)
May 4, 2011 at 9:23 am
I am so very sorry that you lost a friend…but I am so very glad you allowed yourself to feel and express your grief. If “holding it together” means abusing oneself later, I’m all for not holding it together, even if it makes others uncomfortable.
A month or so after my father died I was at a luncheon in which the speaker talked about her own father. It was a recipe for not being able to hold it together. As she neared the end of her talk, I let go and sobbed and said that my father had just died…the others at my table were sort of okay with it, but their sense of alarm was palpable. Even in the midst of my grief, I found myself observing others’ reactions. All I know is that I did what I needed to do for me…and I hope that I was a good role model.
By not taking on the job of “holding it together” for others, you did them a great favor.
May 4, 2011 at 10:30 am
Thank you for sharing this! Your words helped immensely. (((((Hug)))))
May 4, 2011 at 2:15 pm
im sorry for your loss.
May 12, 2011 at 10:19 pm
Thank you so much for sharing this! I’m so sorry for your loss.
I so appreciated your articulating the “pre-binge” feeling as this uncontrollable vibrating inside. Its such a perfect way to describe it. That really resonated with me. Hope you are tlc’ing yourself lots and lots.