Every now and then I entertain myself with a game of “what if,” even if that game simply reinforces the feeling and the thought that I have spent the last year walking away (relatively unscathed) from a 20+ year long train wreck.
Perhaps I have some “survivor’s guilt” and maybe a panic attack now and then, but even a necessary amputation is going to leave a scar.
I wondered if the 1 year anniversary of Jerry’s death would be traumatic. Not so much. I spent a rather lovely day with family, and the date didn’t cross my mind until someone brought it up.
I do wonder if my experience of grief (or the lack thereof) is cold and heartless- because I don’t really miss him. He had managed to kill any affection I had for him long before he died. Between the alcoholic rages, browbeating, name calling and other indignities, I had gotten beyond angry and went straight to numb. I can’t say I have felt much of anything except maybe relief.
It used to be common wisdom (though we know better now) that children were born as tabula rasa, or with a clean slate- no experience, no biases, no predispositions. In some ways I feel sort of like that, as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, but then I feel as if I should have some kind of sadness. Maybe I do feel a bit melancholy for years wasted or opportunities lost, but not what I would really call regret or even mourning.
I don’t think I am a heartless bitch. Maybe numbness is a lot better than unforgiveness or just plain rage.