I want to write about Lizzy but I don't know what exactly about her I want to talk about. Every day I am a bit better I think. I still think about her often, a hundred times a day easily. But it's never with like, the stabbing pain of grief. It's hard to describe without feeling like I'm letting her down by saying that things are fine. But it's not anything like the panic or grief that came on in the weeks before she died, when I was walking around feeling like my heart was going to burn out of my chest, or crying in the toilets of a club because I couldn't deal with music that reminded me of her, or the numb acceptance over Easter, that cumulated with getting so drunk I cried on every shoulder and passed out barely to remember being cared for and put to bed so I didn't die of alcohol poisoning or choke to death.
Apart from the last one, which scares me to death that I don't remember any part of getting sick or that anyone else came to help me, it's comforting to know that I grieved 'appropriately', that I had a spiral and that I was heartsick and I was impacted heavily.
Now, it's like this. I wake up, I remember. I get dressed, still normally at least partially in black. Nobody told me to wear black, but I find it ridiculously comforting. It makes things easy, and I feel like I'm doing the right thing. It helps me remember and maybe help others remember what I'm going through. I wear either black ribbons in my hair, or gold ones that were Liz's. When I listen to music, I skip through until I find ones that remind me of her, because that's all I want to hear. I haven't found anything particularly satisfying, but I can't stand to listen to anything else, I don't want to hear music about romance or dumb, inconsequential shit, because my cousin died and people die and the rest doesn't matter. Of course, I understand that that is a perspective that solely belongs to me and is brought on completely due to me still grieving, and that I can't judge the rest of society for not stopping because of how this tragedy has affected me. All the same though, I can't listen to a lot of music right now.
I cried at her funeral, briefly, but not really since. I could I suppose, if I put my laptop down, curled up, put my blanket over my head and let it out, but I don't want to. I don't need to.
Her funeral was the strangest thing. I was at the front of course, in the second row, behind her brothers and sisters/ Mum and Dad, and her white coffin was right there. The one thing that stuck out to me was how small it was. Not small in that she was like a child or whatever, but just that it was probably not that roomy in there. No one alive would like to be put in a box like that. It made it very real, that her body, her real, physical body was in there. Everything I knew of her was hidden inside that box, only metres away. It was very disturbing and upsetting. It made it hard to focus on anything except that her corpse was right there. I hate the word corpse.
It's not a nice thing to admit I guess, but I try to have a few pretences on this blog as possible, but I tried to look as pretty as possible for the funeral. I had the most beautiful dress, I got a haircut, I shaved my legs and wore high heels and did my makeup to perfection and painted my nails and curled my hair and wore brand new ribbons... etc etc. It was like the only part of the funeral I could prepare for so I obsessed about it. It felt so good to have the dress bought, the day before she even died, because it made me so much calmer. Social events are hard enough without the anxiety over not being dressed appropriately or being uncomfortable in something I'm wearing. I'm grateful I managed to avoid all that. But also, I did just want to look pretty. Almost everyone I knew were there. My family, my friends, the people I have crushes on, the friends of Lizzy's who I didn't know well but that I needed to impress and prove that Liz loved me best, and show that I was calm and dignified and a proper host, someone who could say thank you to everyone for being there, and act as spokesperson from family to friends.
It was really nice how many people came. Liz was of course, well loved. With a large family, from a large parish, with active membership in multiple clubs at uni, from a large local high school, it made sense, but it was still touching. Even just of my friends, Mia, Megan and another girl friend came down from Sydney, just to be there, as well as Jen, who I asked to be there, despite her only meeting Liz twice, both in the last three months. If I could have anyone there, I wanted Jen, and all I had to do was ask. It was overwhelmingly nice of her. Not to say I wouldn't have done the same, but having friends that will drop anything to support you, even if it means sitting in the back of a church where you know nobody, in a ceremony for a faith you don't believe in or agree with, for a girl you don't really know. Jen did that for me, even though it's not like she could sit with me or offer more practical support, it was actually enough to have her there at the back. It comforted me to know she was listening to the same ceremony I was, that she could probably see the back of my head, even if I couldn't turn around and see her, that she was going through the experience with me.
Of course, I felt equally blessed to have the other girls there as well, and Mia's support has been invaluable to me, but I've known them going on ten years now and best friend-ship from them is par for the course almost. Jen I've known almost a year and a half and she's so well wrapped up in the fabric of my life now that it's hard to imagine life without her, but it still is new. Like any relationship, we're still in the honeymoon phase. Mia and I get our seven/ten year itch now and again, but Jen is still a joy in the way where you can't imagine things being different, though of course, I'm sure one day we'll fight and we'll grow to love each other enough to be irritated with each other's annoying quirks, but that's not a bad thing, it's just a different stage of being in an intimate friendship that involves accepting that they aren't perfect and that we can love them regardless.
That's how it is with Mia anyway. She isn't perfect but I love her, not just in spite of her flaws, but because of them. When you grow to know someone's flaws, you also grow to understand their insecurities, their problems, their mindset, and though that isn't always shiny and bright, it's also much more uniquely them. Everyone can be perfect, for awhile, but not everyone can be your best friend.
Though I do have many best friends and now Mia is super jelly of Jen. It's difficult because I am of course, head over heels for Jen, and being in the honeymoon period of our friendship, where things are still changing and growing without strict patterns or definition, it's quite different to Mia and I, as our friendship is, though still changing as we grow up, much more ingrained, requiring less words, time spent together and less affirmations generally. Only with Mia and Ben breaking up coupled with my close new friendship with Jen, suddenly our dynamic of Mia being my Number 1, and Ben being Mia's number 1, has switched to Jen being my Number 1, while I am Mia's number 1.
At least in Mia's mind. For her, it's like she's lost both her top people, and though it's not necessarily true that Mia has lost me as her Numero Uno, it's not out of the realm of reality to suggest it. I like to think I love them equally, though differently, but I suppose that is still a demotion from first priority, to equal first.
And I do not judge her at all for any insecurity. I have been known to get jealous whenever she hangs out with a girl more than twice, lets be real, though as I've grown up I have realised that having more friends doesn't in any way lessen the love for any of those individuals. Practically though, it does change how much you talk to each person about each issue and that not all people can be apart of each shared experience. Again, life, and Mia has had Ben for so many years, I've never been her first priority in that way, so I learnt that that was okay, eventually. Of course, I am also kind of enjoying Mia being jelly, because being in demand is always flattering. Of course, I don't actually want her to be hurt or insecure, but a few weeks of 'boo jen, we hate her' playground type joking around from her isn't going to hurt anyone in the long run, it's just an adjustment period.
Anyways, bed time. Seeing my cousin Jack tomorrow, we'll see how he is. i doubt he'll admit to many feelings but I'll ask him how everybody is. Especially my Auntie, who everyone is most worried about.
xoxogossiplucy
Apart from the last one, which scares me to death that I don't remember any part of getting sick or that anyone else came to help me, it's comforting to know that I grieved 'appropriately', that I had a spiral and that I was heartsick and I was impacted heavily.
Now, it's like this. I wake up, I remember. I get dressed, still normally at least partially in black. Nobody told me to wear black, but I find it ridiculously comforting. It makes things easy, and I feel like I'm doing the right thing. It helps me remember and maybe help others remember what I'm going through. I wear either black ribbons in my hair, or gold ones that were Liz's. When I listen to music, I skip through until I find ones that remind me of her, because that's all I want to hear. I haven't found anything particularly satisfying, but I can't stand to listen to anything else, I don't want to hear music about romance or dumb, inconsequential shit, because my cousin died and people die and the rest doesn't matter. Of course, I understand that that is a perspective that solely belongs to me and is brought on completely due to me still grieving, and that I can't judge the rest of society for not stopping because of how this tragedy has affected me. All the same though, I can't listen to a lot of music right now.
I cried at her funeral, briefly, but not really since. I could I suppose, if I put my laptop down, curled up, put my blanket over my head and let it out, but I don't want to. I don't need to.
Her funeral was the strangest thing. I was at the front of course, in the second row, behind her brothers and sisters/ Mum and Dad, and her white coffin was right there. The one thing that stuck out to me was how small it was. Not small in that she was like a child or whatever, but just that it was probably not that roomy in there. No one alive would like to be put in a box like that. It made it very real, that her body, her real, physical body was in there. Everything I knew of her was hidden inside that box, only metres away. It was very disturbing and upsetting. It made it hard to focus on anything except that her corpse was right there. I hate the word corpse.
It's not a nice thing to admit I guess, but I try to have a few pretences on this blog as possible, but I tried to look as pretty as possible for the funeral. I had the most beautiful dress, I got a haircut, I shaved my legs and wore high heels and did my makeup to perfection and painted my nails and curled my hair and wore brand new ribbons... etc etc. It was like the only part of the funeral I could prepare for so I obsessed about it. It felt so good to have the dress bought, the day before she even died, because it made me so much calmer. Social events are hard enough without the anxiety over not being dressed appropriately or being uncomfortable in something I'm wearing. I'm grateful I managed to avoid all that. But also, I did just want to look pretty. Almost everyone I knew were there. My family, my friends, the people I have crushes on, the friends of Lizzy's who I didn't know well but that I needed to impress and prove that Liz loved me best, and show that I was calm and dignified and a proper host, someone who could say thank you to everyone for being there, and act as spokesperson from family to friends.
It was really nice how many people came. Liz was of course, well loved. With a large family, from a large parish, with active membership in multiple clubs at uni, from a large local high school, it made sense, but it was still touching. Even just of my friends, Mia, Megan and another girl friend came down from Sydney, just to be there, as well as Jen, who I asked to be there, despite her only meeting Liz twice, both in the last three months. If I could have anyone there, I wanted Jen, and all I had to do was ask. It was overwhelmingly nice of her. Not to say I wouldn't have done the same, but having friends that will drop anything to support you, even if it means sitting in the back of a church where you know nobody, in a ceremony for a faith you don't believe in or agree with, for a girl you don't really know. Jen did that for me, even though it's not like she could sit with me or offer more practical support, it was actually enough to have her there at the back. It comforted me to know she was listening to the same ceremony I was, that she could probably see the back of my head, even if I couldn't turn around and see her, that she was going through the experience with me.
Of course, I felt equally blessed to have the other girls there as well, and Mia's support has been invaluable to me, but I've known them going on ten years now and best friend-ship from them is par for the course almost. Jen I've known almost a year and a half and she's so well wrapped up in the fabric of my life now that it's hard to imagine life without her, but it still is new. Like any relationship, we're still in the honeymoon phase. Mia and I get our seven/ten year itch now and again, but Jen is still a joy in the way where you can't imagine things being different, though of course, I'm sure one day we'll fight and we'll grow to love each other enough to be irritated with each other's annoying quirks, but that's not a bad thing, it's just a different stage of being in an intimate friendship that involves accepting that they aren't perfect and that we can love them regardless.
That's how it is with Mia anyway. She isn't perfect but I love her, not just in spite of her flaws, but because of them. When you grow to know someone's flaws, you also grow to understand their insecurities, their problems, their mindset, and though that isn't always shiny and bright, it's also much more uniquely them. Everyone can be perfect, for awhile, but not everyone can be your best friend.
Though I do have many best friends and now Mia is super jelly of Jen. It's difficult because I am of course, head over heels for Jen, and being in the honeymoon period of our friendship, where things are still changing and growing without strict patterns or definition, it's quite different to Mia and I, as our friendship is, though still changing as we grow up, much more ingrained, requiring less words, time spent together and less affirmations generally. Only with Mia and Ben breaking up coupled with my close new friendship with Jen, suddenly our dynamic of Mia being my Number 1, and Ben being Mia's number 1, has switched to Jen being my Number 1, while I am Mia's number 1.
At least in Mia's mind. For her, it's like she's lost both her top people, and though it's not necessarily true that Mia has lost me as her Numero Uno, it's not out of the realm of reality to suggest it. I like to think I love them equally, though differently, but I suppose that is still a demotion from first priority, to equal first.
And I do not judge her at all for any insecurity. I have been known to get jealous whenever she hangs out with a girl more than twice, lets be real, though as I've grown up I have realised that having more friends doesn't in any way lessen the love for any of those individuals. Practically though, it does change how much you talk to each person about each issue and that not all people can be apart of each shared experience. Again, life, and Mia has had Ben for so many years, I've never been her first priority in that way, so I learnt that that was okay, eventually. Of course, I am also kind of enjoying Mia being jelly, because being in demand is always flattering. Of course, I don't actually want her to be hurt or insecure, but a few weeks of 'boo jen, we hate her' playground type joking around from her isn't going to hurt anyone in the long run, it's just an adjustment period.
Anyways, bed time. Seeing my cousin Jack tomorrow, we'll see how he is. i doubt he'll admit to many feelings but I'll ask him how everybody is. Especially my Auntie, who everyone is most worried about.
xoxogossiplucy
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