Acceptance - Phase 1

Another month has passed (2 months yesterday) and another milestone has been reached, one that I never expected to happen in the next 6 months.  It hasn't been pretty; there have been good days and bad, days when I thought I was DONE followed by days when I felt just as bad as I did on Day 1, days when I was happy and content followed by days when I let my feelings get the best of me and I took 10 steps backwards in my healing process.  But I can confidently say that I have officially transitioned into the next stage of grief, the stage that psychology books tell you is the final phase: Acceptance.  But I somewhat disagree.  During my many hours of reflection while driving around DFW, I have decided that the Acceptance stage can be split into 2 phases.  Acceptance Phase 1 is the actual acceptance of the loss/situation.  Coming to terms with the loss, realizing it's never coming back, letting go of what it once was.  But Phase 2 takes it a step further.  Phase 2 is healing, and that can take months or years.

Making it to the Acceptance stage at all is a major step for me.  For so many weeks, I just struggled to wrap my mind around the loss itself.  I knew it was over, but the whole unraveling was so bizarre and unexpected that I just couldn't accept that he was no longer a part of my life, that all of the things we had done together would now be done solo or with others.  I remember the moment I reached Phase 1 of Acceptance.  It was about a week ago when I suddenly realized that I really WAS done.  I had lost the desire to reconcile, I was no longer "in love" with this person.  Sure, I loved him, I cared, I wanted him to be happy and ok.  But that's where my feelings stopped.  I had finally accepted that this part of my life was over and I was ok with it.  I was moving forward.

I realized that the Acceptance stage is a 2-parter when I began to reflect on other moments of grief and loss in my life.  One particular circumstance involved the death of a close friend 8 years ago. That loss had a profound impact on my life.  HE had had a profound impact on my life, so losing him was excruciating.  It was the first major loss I had experienced in my adult life.  It was also the most devastating loss of my 10 year career thus far.  Kevin was my first patient ever and I spent countless hours with him; trying to save him even though he couldn't be saved; being his friend; bringing him his favorite meal of steak and potatoes from Texas Roadhouse after work hours and personally feeding him because I didn't trust anyone else to do it right; bringing Isaac to see him after work and on weekends because he loved babies; playing Bingo with him almost every afternoon and winning almost every time with our lucky number 15 since he and Isaac shared a birthday. When we lost him, it left a huge hole in my heart and intense feelings of sadness and guilt.  Guilt over not being able to save him from a completely unfair disease that I never could've saved him from anyway, guilt over his medical care at the end - again, out of my control.

For years after his death - YEARS, 6 to be exact - I never made it to Phase 2.  I had accepted that he was gone and had moved on in my career - who am I kidding, I had run from my career as a way of healing, left my comfort zone in long-term care to avoid another Kevin. I thought I had completed the grief process but I hadn't.  I saw this quote on Pinterest, which reminded me of Kevin and ultimately made me realize that Acceptance has 2 phases.

You can accept something is gone, but until you can move past the sadness, you haven't reached the final phase of the final stage of grief.  Crying doesn't necessarily mean you're stuck in the Depression stage, but it is definitely an indicator that you haven't healed.  I COULD NOT talk about Kevin for years. I couldn't listen to a certain song that reminded me of him.  The memory of him saddened me. These days I can think of him fondly and with happy memories. I can think about him throwing his head back and laughing, long talks about our favorite Nascar driver, feeding him breakfast every day, the sight of him holding my infant on his lap with a big grin on his face...  When you have honestly healed, you are better able to look back on experiences clearly and with good memories.  Sadness taints happy memories. Losing someone to death is obviously much worse than the end of a relationship, so I'm definitely not trying to compare my heartbreak over one to another.  But thinking about Kevin this last week has helped me to gain perspective on the grief process.  And that's how I know that I haven't yet reached Phase 2 in my current grief.  I have accepted, I have not healed.  I still carry sadness that taints my happy memories.  Someday I hope to look back on my 3-year relationship and remember the moments that brought me joy, because there were a lot of them.  I hope that Isaac can also one day look back on that part of his life and remember the 5/6 of the relationship that included camping trips and the building a winning Pinewood Derby car and skipping rocks at Texoma, instead of just remembering the 1/6 of unhappiness.  

I'm getting there.  Closer and closer every day.  Thinking of Kevin these last few weeks has brought me unexpected comfort and clarity.  Not only did it make me realize that I wasn't quite done healing, and that's ok, but it also helped me to focus on something more important.  If I could get through the death of a beloved friend and come out on the other side a stronger and happier person, I could get through this. 

The song that I had a hard time listening to after he died was a song by Carrie Underwood called So Small.  It reminded me of him because while he was dying, I was in the process of leaving Isaac's dad and breaking apart my family.  I was dealing with something that, while sad and devastating, was nothing compared to what he was dealing with.  For 6 years, this song broke my heart because of the sadness and guilt I felt.  But tonight as I reflected on my old friend, I listened to it again and fully appreciated the meaning behind it.  Something might feel huge at the moment, unbearable even.  But there are much bigger things in life than this one situation.  My situation doesn't define me, it doesn't define my future.  I'll get to Phase 2 when I get there, but in the meantime, I am focusing on all of the other things that make my life great.

"It's so easy to get lost inside a problem that seems so big at the time.  It's like a river that's so wide, it swallows you whole.  While you're sitting around thinking about what you can't change and worrying about all the wrong things, time's flying by, moving so fast.  You better make it count because you can't get it back. Sometimes that mountain you've been climbing is just grain of sand." - Carrie Underwood

My First Airbrush Experience

Since making the decision to pull myself out of the sad slump I was in and focus on happiness and healing, life has gradually improved and I feel better than I have in months. I've been focused on upcoming events, time with friends and family, and just trying to find my happy place.  I've always been a generally happy person (with the exception of a grumpy phase for most of 2009) and easy to please. Little things make me happy: coffee, dark chocolate, stinky cheese, warm weather, wearing flip flops, the smell of freshly cut grass, the smell of a freshly run-over skunk on a warm spring day...  I've been lucky enough to have worn my sandals twice so far this year, thanks to an unseasonably warm Texas winter and a few February days that were over 70*.  Coffee happens every day and I'm currently eating stinky Gouda as I type this.  No skunks yet.  😕

About a week ago , I walked past the mirror on the way to the bathroom and thought, "Ugh..."  Pale, dark circles from lack of sleep, lack of muscle tone thanks to my 2-month cold and allergies preventing a decent workout and run.  So I started thinking of all of those little things that I do for myself that make me happier. I'm not the girliest of girls but some of the things that make me happy as I get older are: good makeup, having a tan, having painted nails, and just feeling pretty in general.  Wow that sounded girly!  Yikes.  Barely a day has gone by over the last 3 years that I didn't have makeup on. I've never been a fan of my makeup-less face.  A little bit of color goes a long way with me and boosts my self-confidence. But over the past month, I barely combed my hair before heading to work. I just didn't care.  But when I walked past the mirror and felt disgusted with myself, I knew that not caring wasn't doing me any favors where my happiness and self-confidence were concerned. My self-esteem had taken a beating over the last several months and I wasn't doing anything to make myself feel better about ME.  As I looked at my pale reflection,  I knew what I needed to do.  I needed a tan.  Badly.

Since it's obviously too cold to get a real tan and I try to avoid tanning booths unless I need a little color before going on a tropical vacation, my next best option was an airbrush tan. My sister gets these every once in a while and recommended that I try one out. I had bought a Groupon over a year ago and never used it, but I could use the expired one for $21 off at least.  So I booked my appointment.

I knew what to expect, thanks to my sister's warnings, but I wasn't completely prepared for the actual experience.  When I arrived, the girl who would be spraying me down went over all of the recommendations (light-medium for my pale self) and "rules" for after the tan (no shower for 6-8 hours, loose clothing, etc).  She walked me back to the spray room and instructed me to undress as much as I wanted based on my comfort level.  I already knew that my underwear was staying on.  Not only was I not going to stand completely bare-assed in front of this girl, but I also like some tan lines.  A bra wasn't an option since I forgot to wear a black one and the dye would destroy my white one.  So I'd have to get past the embarrassment of flashing my boobs to a stranger for 10 minutes.  

She walked out so I could undress (you're going to see me naked anyway, might as well stay!) and I stripped down to my undies.  The giant mirror in front of me assaulted my eyes. Not only was I white and soft, but the fluorescent lighting added 20 lbs.  Was I going to look this gross in front of her or was I just fatter in the mirror?  Would she even care?  And why did I care?  I'm not trying to date her.  I gave my pasty self one last look and called her in.

Despite her warnings that it would "feel a little cold", nothing can really prepare you for the ice cold dye hitting your nipples for the first time.  I HATE being cold and this felt as miserable as a swim in Lake Michigan in June, except there was no gradual introduction of your boobs into the ice bath.  She just blasted me and giggled a little when I shrieked.  I clenched my teeth and tried not to grimace in case the spray tan somehow missed the lines in my face.   When she was done, she put powder in places where I might sweat and looked slightly confused when I told her to put extra in my belly button. Maybe she lacks stomach rolls when she sits down,  I don't know.  She also warned me that I would look dark before my shower, "so don't panic".  I dressed in my all-black, loose clothing and left, thankful to be warm and no longer exposed. 

With the exception of the full-body stickiness and the stench of the spray tan (similar to how you smell after a tanning booth), I felt better already.  I felt happy and a little more confident. So confident that I took a makeup-free picture and didn't hate it.  That never happens.

I drove home and started my 6-8 hours of desperately wanting a shower.  It's one of the hardest parts about the spray tan.  You're sticky, sweaty, and stink like crazy, especially since you're free of deodorant, body spray, lotion, everything.  You have to be aware of what you touch and whether or not your stomach rolls are sweating and wiping off the tan. At one point I decided to clean up cat puke with a Lysol wipe and it dripped on my arm. 

Luckily the white spot disappeared after my shower.  7 hours later, I was tired of smelling like death so I went upstairs for my much anticipated shower.  I briefly forgot the girl's warning that I would be darkest before my shower.  I panicked when I looked in the mirror and looked like the blonde sister of my Mexican brother-in-law.

I checked my tan lines and immediately noticed 2 things: a) I looked 20 lbs thinner than my whiter self had looked under those horrible fluorescent lights and b) my stretch marks were suddenly magnified x100.  (They faded slightly after my shower but definitely still more visible than with whiter skin.)  After my shower, I was able to see the true results and I was very happy with them.  Just a nice glow that I had badly needed.  I felt better already.

The next day, I noticed bumps on my stomach.  Over the next couple days, they spread to my arms, neck, and back and were really itchy.  So I've concluded that I'm allergic to the dye in the spray tan.  I make sure I use a lot of lotion so I don't dry out and that's helped with the itchiness.  But because of this, I don't think another airbrush tan is in my future, so I'll have to wait for bathing suit season to get another tan.  As of today, I still have a good tan going but it should start to fade in about a week.  Definitely not long enough for the price I paid.  If you get an airbrush tan, definitely use a Groupon.  It ain't cheap and it lasts for 12 days max.   Aside from the rash, I recommend it.  It's safer than the sun or tanning booths and gives you a nice color. 

It's the little things that make a big difference, so I'm glad I took this tiny step for myself.  Now that the majority of my looooong cold is over, I started running again.  Still hate it as much as I always have but I know it clears my head of unhappiness and negativity, so I'll stick with it.  Summer is coming, after all.  I even ordered new Brooks for myself, another little thing that cheered me up.  The tan and running shoes weren't the cheapest form of happiness, so hopefully a skunk comes along soon so I can get a free burst of motivation.