I wish I was like you, easily amused

I usually have no problem expressing myself through writing when I am in a place like this. It’s when everything is going well that I don’t have much to write about. But for some reason, I cannot put into words how I feel. I have sat down to write every evening for the last four days, but nothing has come. I don’t know what it is about this particular death that is different than the others. I don’t know how to deal with any of this. What usually happens is that some days I feel better, some days I feel worse. But eventually I get through it. I know it’s only been about three weeks, but it’s not getting better. I don’t think I’m mourning any more or differently this time around. Perhaps it’s just the sheer number that has me. Four in twelve months.

Last Sunday I perched myself on the couch in front of the TV for the better part of the late afternoon and evening. With a glass in hand, a bottle of Jameson and plenty of ice I sat there in my temporary escape trying to figure out how to deal. Truth is, you never really escape. I sat there with my mind swirling, trying to make sense of it all. Four deaths in twelve months. There had to be some lesson to be learned. Some insightful moment that would help make things better. Of course there wasn’t. I picked myself up off the couch and went to bed drunk, disappointed and even more confused.

The next morning I ambled out of bed around 9. I got to work an hour late, but it didn’t really matter. My bosses were all at a conference in California and I had very little work to do. I sat at my desk still in a bit of a daze. Then I read this from another blogger:

Then again, I think the biggest mark of maturity is no longer waiting around for a soul-scorching insight. I don’t seek out those tiny moments where everything makes sense, because I know now that it’s a process that will likely never end. And I’d be bored out of my mind if it ever did.

There it was. The “insight” that I was looking for. There rarely are any “soul-scorching insights” to be made. You’re not going to be able to make sense out of every situation. Sometimes that’s just the way life goes. It didn’t make me feel any better. I’m still trying to figure out how to deal. But I’m no longer wasting my time trying to understand everything that has gone on. Maybe that’s a start.