Grief, People.
The spectrum of loss and trauma we are all on dictates almost everything that causes humanity's problems and may be the end of us all. This is not a scientific fact. It is a projection, a speculation, a desperate rationalization, a context of understanding and something I made up based on my brain’s needs and my generalized fear.
The grief of specific loss comes and goes but usually I can manage it and not let it permeate my being. That certainly wasn’t true at the beginning. Grief gives you no choice. It will consume you. I’m not entirely sure I processed the grief of loss thoroughly.
I am not consumed with sadness but given my lack of ability to compartmentalize, my tragically low self-esteem for a person my age and my propensity to act out or distract myself in one way or another to avoid feelings that I think will consume me, I’m not entirely sure what is going on with my emotional baseline until I lose my mind one way or the other and the fear swallows me from the inside.
I’ve been edgy.
I’m not sure if it's my resurfaced, deep addiction to nicotine or my age. I’m hitting a wall that I need to climb over or break down. I’ve been here before. Goddamnit. Different year, same wall. Feeling unsafe. Or the kid within, emotionally stifled at age 10, is feeling nervous and a little lost.
All this stuff has been percolating for a few weeks. I guess there are some triggers. Last night I received an honor for being publicly sad. I was presented with the Good Grief Award by The Our House Grief Support Center which is an amazing organization that provides grief support of all kinds for families and individuals. I didn’t know about it when Lynn died. I rode it out with all of you and my peers and whoever was around. I took it to the stage and to the microphone out of desperation. It worked, I think. I know it helped other people.
Being honored for being hilariously sad. I guess I can sort of see that as a lifetime achievement award. I think it’s probably what I’ve been doing my entire career.
Other triggers are the Fall. It makes me sweetly melancholy. World events are a constant source of dread and anxiety. I got a new refrigerator.
I know that last one seems like a good thing. It is but it is also the end of an obsessive quest for ice and perfection. As many of you know I have been working with Alex, the Ukrainian repair guy, for what seems like years. It was a sporadic relationship that saw the destruction and rebuilding of my freezer. There was anger and pain. Alex believed he would eventually conquer my refrigerator and fix the ice machine. It did not happen. It was hard for me to tell him it was over and I got a new refrigerator. I just texted him some pics of ice.
The revealing thing to me about all this is that I don’t really use ice. I was obsessed with making it right. With having a purpose. With things that work.
Now I have that but I’m nervous. I check the new ice a lot. Just to know it’s there and it keeps coming.
I’ll be okay. At least if I hurt myself and I need an ice pack I’m ready.
I’ve had a cold for a week. I had to take it easy. No compulsive exercise. Too much time in my head and not enough dopamine. I hate relaxing.
Today I talk to Dan Soder. We had never really met. He’s a good guy, good comic. On Thursday I talk to the legendary Lou Adler about the music business, comedy and the 50th anniversary of The Roxy in Hollywood, which he started. Good week.
Enjoy!
Boomer, Monkey and LaFonda live!
Love,
Maron
