Tangly

Touted: attempt to sell (something), typically by pestering people in an aggressive or bold manner. This word just keeps being used right now. I just keep seeing it in stories of aggressive people.

I tried to view my dads story online. I was given a warning that it wasn’t secure, that it may be someone trying to steal my financial information. I need to see if he is on there yet but someone might take my money? I clicked on the story about the risks and it heightened my fear. It says that if I understand these risks I could proceed forward. No, I do not understand these risks and now can’t move forward. I’m now stuck in grief.

I’m supposed to be looking for the opportunity for growth but am stuck on several other steps before that one. I was there a day ago and now I’m back worried about moving forward. Why would someone keep me from being able to view this? To keep me from moving forward? Why do we have these kinds of risks? The kind that seem made up because it’s as if they don’t exist because I can’t see them. Who would put this type of risk on a funeral parlor? Weak people? Taking advantage of people full of strength grieving? Why isn’t it secure today? It was yesterday? Is it because I paid my bills online and now someone has that information? Was it me? Did I make this risk unknowingly? Does the funeral home know? Did they get cyber attacked? We’re they woke in the middle of the night notified of a risk? Should I tell them? I need to be able to see his story so I can go back to going ahead.

I woke feeling nothing. I felt nothing at all. Very tangly. In fact I wasn’t certain I could feel my knees even. Would they hold me up if I couldn’t? I’m either feeling everything or nothing and I can’t get them in order because there is no order to be had or there is too much to achieve?

I need to keep writing to keep track of my process so that if I ever need it again I can come back and see that I got through it. I can’t go anywhere. With the new rules I’m allowed to be in closed in spaces. I might as well be in a casket myself. Even though I don’t ever want to be buried in a box. I can’t go out and meander the woods. I can’t set my tent up and watch the sky. I can’t walk for miles. I can’t sit on warm rocks. I can’t go out and listen to the birds. We aren’t supposed to be out we are too dangerous to each other.

I see pictures of animals playing, of clearer water, or less things disturbed, it’s like our views have been repainted in some places. And I don’t believe it because I can’t be there to see it. It’s not enough for me to see over the lines of connected lines. Skylines are clearer. But I can’t see them. They are inside of something I don’t trust. They are in a place I don’t go to because they do not feel real. They are stuck behind screens. Those are my animals. Like they are my people. Behind there. People say they have their people. Mine are not people.

People can’t access their people in real life. They weren’t anyway. This isn’t harder for them. It’s the exact same thing as before except they are being told to do it this way. This is not the exact same thing for me. I wasn’t connected to others and don’t miss it. Now I’m being told to, or encouraged to. I can’t do what I do. I know I’m not alone. There are many of us who can’t reach out and touch the water, or feel the rocks warmth, or dip our toes in the sand after walking miles. I miss my dad. Not everyone I wasn’t connected to.

I sat in a room and they were all there. But not. All connected to places far far from this room. I sit, alone surrounded by others. It’s the most lonely I’ve ever felt. The most tangled I’ve ever been. I got up to look for him. He wasn’t there. It took me seconds to realize he isn’t there. He would have been the one sitting there with me right there. Not miles away with others. We didn’t say anything always. We didn’t need to. It was just genuine company. His cat stretched across his legs. Just sitting there right in the minute in real life. My in real life is completely gone.

I want my kids to know that feeling of real life. To feel it. Not ignore it. Not look for other feelings to replace the one that comes from not being with someone. That missing someone is the ultimate love. You go days without hearing them, seeing them, hugging them. You imagine it. You hold onto the last time when you need to. Then when you see them again it’s ten times better than the last time. Each time gets stronger. You are more connected simply because you are less. I will replay my times over and over not to torture myself with the memories but to remind myself of them. So they comfort me in the absence of the real ones. They will never be real again. And this is not something I’m strong at. I’m a weak tangly griever. I’m going back.

It’s ok to miss someone. It’s ok not to be so connected that you can pick up anything that has power and touch it and there they are. On the other side of nowhere. Like my dad. He isn’t there anymore. It’s no different to me than if he were still here and I couldn’t sit next to him and talk not at all. People aren’t real to me unless they are real to me. Right there.

I feel disjointed now. That I’m too everything or nothing, that my connections now wonky. I’m tangly and trying to be untangly so I can be connected in a untangled way I don’t connect. It’s being pulled and tugged at by things plugged in. I’m being pulled to chat and see faces that aren’t real. To have meetings just because others have meetings. I should for them? They need this? Or are they also feeling the same pressure. That it’s what we do. Except it’s not what I do.

I need real life formats to feel connection. Otherwise for me it’s a lost connection. They have taken this simple pleasure right from me to protect others from me. And me from them. I’m not plugged in. Writing on a tablet in this format is even difficult. I was getting frustrated with my hand writing because I had too many notebooks and couldn’t always find the one I was last in. Or I would and my daughter had colored faces in it. Or I would spill noodles on it. I needed to be able to write faster for awhile in hopes it would untangle me quicker. I’m in a hurry to be untangled so I can hurry and feel connected in a more untangled manner. Or Im more tangled than ever because I’m being told in need to be connected with cords. Tethered to a world I don’t tether to. I have to be unplugged to be plugged in. Even tangled up. I’m just tangly. I prefer a tangled up real connection.