So it’s been three weeks somehow. It’s been a week since the viewing, and almost a week since the burial. Sometimes I think I feel absolutely fine, and then other times I get this crushing feeling. But then I’m fine again. Today I felt insanely angry. I don’t know if I was angry at my stepbrother for dying, or angry in the way I get sometimes when I’m actually very anxious.
If I think about it I feel angry again. I think it’s hard to know where to put all this. The fact of someone just being gone and that’s it. There’s nothing you can do with the feeling and yet it continues to be true somehow.
I wasn’t close to him. I couldn’t be. He was honestly hard to be close to, for lots of reasons I feel no need to share here because it’s nobody’s fucking business. That doesn’t mean it isn’t upsetting when a member of your immediate family dies. It is unsettling. It affects everyone somehow.
So yes. I am angry, but probably anxious at how the world feels unsteadier.
Through all this I’ve been writing. He died, then I numbly logged on to ao3 to finish edits of my secret santa supercat story. Somehow all the little bits and pieces of life still happened. Writing the novel felt like taking deep breaths of much-needed air. I wrote less than I would have, but I still wrote. Christmas still happened, and it felt simultaneously comforting and ludicrous.
In some ways things feel pointless. In other ways they feel full of purpose. and then others still they feel exactly as they always did. I don’t know if that means anything.
