by Cassy Roop
He reached over and placed a hand on mine, stilling them. Something happened the instant we touched and we both found ourselves jerking our hands away from each other.
What the hell just happened? It felt like he had delivered an electric shock through my body, awareness that I should not have felt overwhelmed me. It also made me want to vomit.
“I meant what I said, Ellie. I’m sorry for what I said at the jail earlier.”
“Thank you,” I replied in a whisper, still fighting to find my voice after he had touched me. Something deep down told me this was a bad idea. Every fiber of my being was telling me to run in the other direction. But if I had any chance to be able to pick up the pieces that were my new fucked up life, then I needed to learn how to move on without Jeremy. Maybe grief counseling wasn’t such a bad idea.
“Thank you, Evan. If it’s not too much trouble, I accept your offer.”
Depression
IT’S BEEN FIVE DAYS. Five lonely, misery-ridden days that I’ve sat in this bed, mindlessly flipping through the channels on the TV. My only companions have been the few saltine crackers that I had managed to choke down and the fifth of Jack Daniels I had been nursing, trying to numb my pain.
If I didn’t already feel vacant and hollow enough, the fact that I couldn’t even cry anymore made me feel like the biggest asshole on the earth. I couldn’t even mourn my wife properly. I still fought back and forth with the anger and bargaining with God over what I should do. What I should have done. What I could do.
I hadn’t seen or spoken to Ellie after getting out of the cab when we were released from jail. I had no clue if she was doing the very same thing I had done for the last five days.
Absolutely nothing.
I could sit in front of anyone, my peers at work, my friends and pretend to be okay. But in the loneliness of this room, I couldn’t hide from myself. I was the one who had to look in the mirror every day. I was the one who had to get up everyday and conjure every ounce of strength I could find in order to be able to even walk to the bathroom.
I felt like I was dying myself. Death was trapped inside my body, eager to find its way outward to consume what little of me there was left.
I looked over at the pamphlet that had arrived in the mail yesterday. The information about the grief counseling stared back at me, and I had read it so many times, I could probably quote it verbatim.
1. Trying to ignore your pain or keep it from surfacing will only make it worse in the long run. For real healing it is necessary to face your grief and actively deal with it.
2. Grieving is a personal and highly individual experience. How you grieve depends on many factors, including your personality and coping style, your life experience, your faith, and the nature of the loss.
3. The grieving process is a roller coaster, full of ups and downs, highs and lows. Like many roller coasters, the ride tends to be rougher in the beginning, the lows may be deeper and longer.
Being a medical doctor, I knew most of these things. I have had the not so wonderful privilege to have to inform loved ones of my patients that their child wouldn’t be coming home, or that they only had a matter of weeks or months to live. Never, though, had I understood the enormity of loss they felt until now. I never even got to meet my child. Never even knew he or she existed until Lilly told me on the boat that night. My stomach hardened as nausea threatened to take over. There was a weakness in my muscles and my limbs trembled while a painful tightness formed in the back of my throat.
Yet not a tear fell.
Was I some emotionless bastard who couldn’t even shed a tear over my wife and unborn child’s death? Was I some cold-hearted son-of-a-bitch that wasn’t normal?
I turned up the volume on the TV, needing to hear some other voice besides my own. I had to keep my thoughts from spinning, focusing on the inward pain that consumed me.
Looking over at the clock sitting on the nightstand, I noted that it was barely after eleven in the morning.
But it didn’t matter what time it was.
I picked up the shot glass and the nearly empty bottle of Jack, needing something to once again numb me against my reality. Instead, I unscrewed the cap and chugged the remaining amber liquid so fast, it burned the back of my already aching throat. I tossed it haphazardly to the floor as I wiped at my mouth with the back of my hand.
Picking up the pamphlet once more, I re-read all of the information listed. Ellie and I were to report to our first meeting in two days. I wasn’t sure if they had called to tell Ellie about the information and thought it best to go downstairs and tell her. This also meant that I needed to venture out from the solace of my withdrawal from the world that I had created inside this bedroom.
Pushing the covers aside, I walked into the bathroom and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My normal bright blue eyes had faded, no longer holding a spark for life as they stared back at me. Dark circles decorated my eyes showing my inability to get a good nights rest. My usually tamed hair was a tangled, oily mess and I had began to start looking like one of the guys on Duck Dynasty with how long my beard had gotten.
I reached for my travel kit and removed my hair trimmers and began to trim away the hair on my face, letting the whiskers drop into the porcelain sink below me. My desire to escape the overwhelming sadness that was more potent than anything I have felt. I swear a part of me died the day Lilly and our baby did, but I was still alive. I still had to go on without her and I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life feeling this miserable.
Determined to get a grip on myself, I jumped in the shower, not only to clean my body, but also hopefully be able to wash away the demons that have been present and begin something new.
The rest of my life.
***
“HEY, BABY.”
A strong voice whispered against my ear sending shivers running down my spine. I felt a warmth flood me, eradicating the frigid and cold flow that had been present in my veins for a while now. Hearing his voice stirred me from out of the depth of hell in which I have been inhabited.
“Hey, yourself,” I replied smiling for the first time in what seemed like forever. My mouth felt foreign to the emotion and I could feel the protest in my facial muscles as my lips turned up.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered again in my ear, the warmth of his breath feeling more real than if it were the wind blowing against me.
“Jeremy, I’ve missed you more than you could ever know.”
“I’m here now, baby.”
“Please, please don’t leave me.” I began to sob. I tried to open my eyes, feeling the bite as sunlight filtered in. I couldn’t see Jeremy, only his silhouette that was surrounded by light, a beautiful, illuminating halo that made him appear angelic.
“I’ve never left you, Ellie. I’ll always be a part of you, just as you are me.”
“Why did you have to go?” I asked struggling to try and sit up, but felt like a weight was holding me down.
“There were plans for me, Ellie. Plans that I had no idea of. You have plans too. I need you to live, Ellie. I need you to go on and be happy.”
“I can’t be happy without you, Jeremy. I’m so lost. So, so, lost. My heart hurts constantly. It hurts to breathe. I don’t want to go to sleep, and when I do, I don’t want to wake up. Every time I close my eyes, I see you. Then when I wake up you are gone and it hurts all over again.”
I felt the warmth of his hands as he gently brushed back the hair from my face, yet I still couldn’t see him. I wanted to see his face. I wanted those blue eyes staring back at me, to give me some sense of hope that this wasn’t another dream.
His hands encompassed both of mine as I felt his body lay next to mine, holding our hands between us. My heart was beating erratically in my chest and my throat tightened as tears began to form.
“I need you to listen, Ellie. You have a purpose. You have meaning. You may not think so, but you do. Before long, my memory won’t hurt so much. Your heart will heal and
you will be able to feel like you can breathe again. I need you to do that for me. I need you to promise me that you will rise above this. Not let the darkness take over you anymore, baby. It kills me to watch you lie here as if your life is over. You have so much left to live for. I want you to fall in love again. I want you to live joyfully and vivaciously until the day we will be together again.”
I shook my head violently from side to side. I couldn’t. I can’t. I won’t.
“I—I can’t. I can’t do it, Jeremy. My life will never be the same without you. You have left a hole so vacant inside me, nothing will ever be big enough to fill it again.”
He kissed my hands as he held them between his, the feel of his lips leaving their mark on my body and a yearning so deep, the cut would never heal.
“You can, and you will, baby. Just know that I will always be your biggest supporter. I’ll always be watching over you, but I have to go now.”
“No! No! Don’t you dare leave me again!” I yelled as I felt his grip on my hands loosen and he got up from the bed. I tried with all my might to get up and go after him, but it felt as if all my limbs were shackled to the frame of the bed. Darkness began to invade the light surrounding him.
“Jeremy please! Please don’t go. I’ll do anything! Please!” I begged over and over. I screamed so loud, I felt my voice would give out as I began thrashing around in the bed trying to escape the monster holding me down.
“Live, Ellie,” was all I heard him say as his silhouette faded into darkness and I could no longer see him. I was hyperventilating to the point that I felt my breathing could seize at any moment. My chin trembled as angry tears coursed down both sides of my temples to land on the bed beneath me.
“Ellie.”
I thrashed harder, determined to break the chains that bound me, to defeat the supernatural force keeping me from my husband.
“Ellie.”
I screamed with all my might to the point that I coughed violently as the back of my throat burned with angry force.
“Ellie!”
I shot straight up from the bed, sweat trickling down my forehead. I rubbed at my eyes, feeling the reality of my tears.
“Ellie.”
I looked up to see Evan sitting on the bed next to me with worry written all across his face. His brows were furrowed together and he had a gentle hand placed on my leg where it was half covered by the duvet. It was what I couldn’t get out from under. It is what had me pinned to the bed as I had tried to reach for Jeremy.
“Are you okay? Can I get you a glass of water?” He asked nervously.
I nodded, not able to find my voice, knowing my vocal chords were strained and swollen from my screams.
It was another dream.
The same dream I’ve been having nearly every night.
Each night, Jeremy would come to me.
And each night he would leave again.
Evan retreated into the tiny kitchen in the other room and returned with a tall glass of water and what looked like a bottle of ibuprofen.
“Here,” he said as he handed them to me and sat back down on the bed. I placed the two tablets on my tongue and washed them down with the cool water, thankful for the relief when the liquid hit the back of my throat.
“Are you okay?” He asked as he accepted the empty glass from me when I had finished it.
“Yeah, I think so,” I replied meekly.
“Are you having bad dreams about them too?”
His questions stunned me slightly and I nodded.
“I have them too. Sometimes, they seem so real, that I can’t decipher if I’m actually sleeping or awake.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean.”
I looked at him as a solemn look crossed his face. It was then that I noticed that he had shaved, even showered. I began feeling a little self-conscious as a hand lifted to my greasy, matted hair that was stuck to the side of my head.
“Do you think they’ll ever stop?” I asked as I pulled the duvet closer to my chest. I watched his shoulders shrug in what? Defeat? Hope? Desperation?
“Eventually they have to, don’t they? Eventually we will wake up one day and this won’t hurt so damn bad, will it?”
I knew he was looking to me for reassurance, but I couldn’t give it to him and I definitely couldn’t give it to myself.
Suddenly, I became very aware of how close we were sitting on the bed and felt uneasy when our eyes met each other’s at the same time. His blue eyes didn’t hold as much ice and animosity towards me as they had days ago and he seemed softer today, more defeated. I think as the loss of our spouses fully settled in our soul, there is nothing left for us to do but to slip into the seemingly endless, depressive road that we both had began to travel down. At the same time, I felt more connected with him than I had thought about before. The last few days had given me the realization that not only were we connected because we both lost loved ones that day, but connected by the fact that he was the only other person who truly understood what I was going through.
Because he felt the same thing.
We both knew the deprivation of loss and the overwhelming feeling of anguish and sadness. We both had vacancies within our hearts that nothing would be able to replace or fill. I think the biggest connection we had is that we both understood. Understood that our lives would no longer be the same. Understood that we had to go on living, knowing that our spouses were never coming back. And understood the feelings that we were both simultaneously experiencing.
“I’m sorry that you got sentenced to the counseling with me,” I said apologizing for the first time since he had rescued me off the jet ski.
He shrugged again.
“Maybe it will be good for us. Maybe being with others who have experienced the same thing will help us pick up the pieces that your husband and Lilly left behind.”
“Jeremy.”
He looked at me, his blue eyes questioning.
“His name was Jeremy.”
“Jeremy,” he tested, letting my husband’s name roll off his tongue.
“I didn’t get to talk to him much because the old man kept my attention most of the night.” His lip turned up in the corner with the faintest of smiles.
“Yeah, Jeremy was occupied by his wife. Lilly and I were both laughing about it. We decided not to rescue you two because we were enjoying just sitting back and watching.”
I fidgeted with the duvet that I had let fall back down to my lap.
“You wife was lovely. I only got to chat with her very briefly during dinner, but I could tell she was a very sweet person, and that she loved you very much.”
My statement earned a slightly bigger smile than the one before as he absorbed the compliment I gave about his wife.
“Thank you. She was very lovely.”
His look turned dark again as if the memory of her was too much to take on. Each flashback sending both him and me reminders that the two people who mattered more than anything in our lives, were now gone.
He looked around the room and then reached into his back pocket and pulled out a purple piece of paper.
“This came from the grief center. We start our group session on Monday. I didn’t know if they had called you or not, so I thought I would come down and let you read this,” he said as he handed the pamphlet to me. I accepted the pamphlet from him, our fingers making the slightest contact. The same sharp static surge of awareness hit me just like it had when he placed his hand on my leg in the cab a few days ago. It confused me, deeply. I didn’t want to feel any kind of awareness at all. The only thing I was fully aware of was the absence of my husband. The torment I felt knowing he was gone forever.
“Thank you. The counselor called me yesterday and informed me, but I’ll be sure to read over this,” I said gesturing to the paper.
He rose from the bed and began walking towards the door as I sat on the bed staring at the purple rectangle in my hands, the words blurring together to form unintelligible dots, lines and dashes on t
he page.
He paused at the door, turning around to look at me.
“Have you eaten anything? There hasn’t been any food down here for a while. You should have told me, Ellie.” His voice was stern, yet leavened with concern as he looked at me with knitted brows.
“It’s okay. I haven’t had an appetite for much anyway.”
“Ellie,” his voice a warning. “It’s been five days. When is the last time you ate anything?”
I ducked my head, tucking my chin to my chest as my cheeks reddened like a child being scolded. I couldn’t meet his eyes as I tried to come up with an excuse to tell him that I’ve maybe only eaten a handful of things in the last week. Not enough to make me full, yet just enough to keep me from passing out in exhaustion.
“I had some peanut butter crackers not too long ago.”
“When?” He asked as he folded his arms across his chest and leant against the doorframe, clearly not leaving until he got a straight answer from me.
“The day after Jeremy’s funeral,” I admitted.
His expression grew angry, lips flattening into a straight line. The tightness was back in his eyes and his face had reddened slightly.
“Get dressed.”
“What?” I asked cocking my head to the side and blinked at him rapidly in disbelief.
“Get dressed. Let’s get out of here for a while. I need some air. And you need to eat something. It isn’t healthy to go that long without eating.”
I stared at him openly, not quite sure how to process his demand or his concern.
“Why do you care, Evan? I’m fine.”
His posture stiffened and his muscles turned rigid as he pushed off the doorframe and came to stand in front of me. I leant back against the headboard of the bed trying to create distance between us as he stared down at me.
He reached down and picked up my wrist, pressing his middle finger to my pulse point and held it in his hands for a few seconds. He then flipped my hand back over and looked at my fingernails and then pinched the skin on the top of my hand.