Anniversary of a Disaster

Good grief! It's been a whole week since I've posted here. Really didn't mean to let things slip by, but it's been a busy and intense week. "Shelter from the Storm" planning has kicked into high gear, with the anniversary of Her Horribleness being only a few weeks away. Fair warning - I'll probably only be posting here sporadically until after September 24th.

Besides preparing for this special commemoration, I've become aware of some 'anniversary reactions' happening as well. No, not directly connected with Rita stuff, although that's mulling around in the mix too. Labor Day weekend continues to be an anniversary date for me even 20 years down the road from the event. It's usually in hindsight a week or so after Labor Day that I realize what's been happening to me, so there's at least some progress being made this year! Maybe it's because I've been reading about disaster anniversary reactions in conjunction with preparation for the anniversary of Rita (yes, I really do have to recognize that we're coming up on one year after, and I truly can say that name if I have to.).

One of my biggest anniversary reactions has always been that I feel numb, wrapped up in cotton and completely unable to feel anything. Along with that comes difficulty in processing information. For example, it usually takes me 10-15 minutes to work the end of the week crosswords. Around anniversary time, the clues almost become incomprehensible letters on the page and I have to scrounge the internet for answers to things I usually know without thinking.

The good news is that, as time has gone by, the intensity has weakened. I figure the same will hold true for recovery from Her Horribleness. And even that may lessen quicker once I get back into my home (anticipated return date? Sometime before the beginning of the next millennium. *sigh*). It was encouraging to read that what I have been experiencing is not to be unexpected in this still abnormal situation.

The reality is that I have not truly mourned yet. I've been really good at distracting myself with the all too real and necessary business of putting things back together, helping others (it is part of the job description, you know), and working on addressing the communal needs I see (at some level part of the job description, at another an expression of frustration and anger - actually a "normal" part of the recovery process).

Working our way closer to this particular anniversary, I'm beginning to realize that I need to take care of myself, as well. Okay! Okay! I know! You've been telling me that for months now, and I've been nodding my head and saying, "Once 'x' is done, I'll _________ (fill in the blank - take a vacation, talk to a counselor, get a massage ...)". Problem is - I keep changing what 'x' will identify my capitulation point.

Please don't give up on me! I promise I'll get there and actually do something! Anniversaries of difficult situations are simultaneously the pits and the impetus, and not just for me. Maybe we oughta plan a group hug at our worship service? hmmmmmmm..... probably not a physical one, but we'll certainly aspire to a spiritual one, and that may be the best thing for both our recovering community and me.