Rainy Day Reflection

"Keep on keepin' on"

“Keep on keepin’ on”

I’m trying to improve my blogging chops and make this into something better, a place not only for me to express myself, but a place for my readers (even if few) to share and learn as well. In doing so, I’ve been spending a lot of time reading about blogging from other blogs via Pinterest. [Say that 3x fast.] This all brought me to update my blog and why I chose this name for my blog. While I’ve previously reflected on this, reading through it again brings up a lot of mixed emotions for me.

The anniversary of my stepdad’s passing was a few weeks ago. The day came and went on as usual all around me. One thing that’s been bothering me is that I didn’t call my mom to see how she was handling it. Mostly out of selfish reasons. Talking about it out loud still brings stinging tears that I need to keep back. I’m “the strong one” in the family, or at least I feel like I have to be. Honestly, my mom even said this to me at the funeral… I was always the one asked to help translate, write checks, deal with adults, and fill out a countless number of documents for my mom growing up. Even now she asks for my help more than my brother’s I suspect. I was a grown up before I probably should have been. This was the situation until my stepdad came into our lives. While he had his faults, and that may be a post for another day, he truly helped us out a lot. So why would I avoid talking about him and all that he did for us?

I’ve been feeling super guilty that I didn’t publicly acknowledge this sad day. I also didn’t see much from distant family on that day and somehow that also saddened me. But then I find the rational side of myself wondering why do we (or is it just me) feel compelled to share everything on social media? As if this makes it more real, more “legit.” However, I know that just because we don’t talk about something or someone doesn’t necessarily mean we’re not thinking about it or them. In fact, it can be the only thing on our minds. *sigh*

Grief is different for everyone. Some people have to talk through it while others need to work through it on their own. Writing is my way to release the sadness and put it out there when my voice fails me. It’s my way of opening up, but at the same time keeping a distance. Oftentimes sadness and other negative feelings are simply pushed aside. These are to be dealt with later, not now. Sometimes, and this has happened before, this can backfire and it just takes one little thing to bring it all crashing down. My husband can attest to this. Keeping a smile on is difficult but something I’ve sort of got a reputation for it seems. Any kind of activity or survey where people have had to describe me usually has several repeated answers: Rosy is always happy, positive, outgoing, making us laugh, etc. While it’s a pretty big ego boost to see that my friends and family truly believe these things of me, it also has made me put pressure on myself to keep that positive outlook. At all times, at all costs. It’s probably something I’ll always have to deal with and learn to balance. For now, this will have to do.

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One thought on “Rainy Day Reflection

  1. Niki says:

    You’re right, grief is very different for everyone. While many of my family members don’t mind talking about the things that have happened, I do. I take all of my grief, sadness, trauma, fear, and lock it up in a little box on the inside and I do not open it. Unless of course certain triggers open the box, then everything comes crashing down like you said (luckily we have amazing husband/future husband to pick us back up). Why do I lock everything inside? Maybe it’s because I’m perceived as the positive, strong and outgoing person as well. But I think it’s more of me just being afraid to deal with these emotions I don’t know what to do with. And afraid if I open the box, I will go insane or drown in the grief. Maybe I will deal with it later, or maybe I will keep it in the box and leave it there. I guess I’ll deal with it when I have to. Or maybe I already am but just don’t realize it. Have I confused you yet? We are more alike than I thought.

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