Today's Lesson: “is this it?… oh, fuck… *boom*”

It’s been five days. And four hours.

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At night, I’ve been walking. Nights are more painful alone. The streets are less crowded, safer if I start to cry. It’s a chance to move around, to think, to remember, to attempt a census of my feelings, without being trapped alone inside. My days are slowly shifting, as they always naturally have if unchecked, later and later. Last night I went to bed around 7am. Today, I woke up about 11. The only reason I got out of bed was that I had a doctor’s appointment.

I got up, teared up twice in the shower, dressed, then went to catch my train. It was a sunny Saturday, so there were people everywhere, the trains were crowded both ways, the doctor’s office was packed. To escape the crowded train, I took a longer walk home, getting off one station early.

A bit later, I took another walk, but didn’t accomplish anything useful, and was home just about the time he died on Monday. (I don’t know what time he actually died, and I don’t know how to ask the question. My aunt called me at 9:24 pm. She said he died about 15 minutes earlier. Maybe that means he died between 9:07 and 9:13 pm Tokyo time.)

All of this was a distraction. My brain only flicked back to my new world a couple times. Both times with painful, but brief, stabs to the heart.

Again, I didn’t eat much (altho I did aim for calories). At about 10:45 pm, I started to get ready to leave, to walk, to think, to be. At about 10:46, I had a three-second warning that it was coming. I thought, “is this it?… oh, fuck… boom” I cried intensely for about 20 minutes. An absolutely crushing sense of loss, of grief.

It hurt.

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This hurts so much. I don’t know how people make it through this. My expat friends are nice but young. My sister sends messages but typing is slow and gets in the way. My entire family is in timezones that are nearly opposite mine. My doctor has caring words, but is not much help. There’s no one to talk to. I dunno if talking would help, but being alone is horrible. And maybe sitting quietly with someone would feel better? I can’t imagine it feeling any worse.

This is easily the worst year of my life. There’s no comparison. I don’t know how people do this. I don’t know if I can or if I will. I’ve never felt – never been – so alone. And the year’s not even over.

[O]ne of the essences of hell [is] the unceasing potential for things to become worse than you fear. –Charles Taylor

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