amberdreams (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
amberdreams) wrote2015-05-11 07:12 am
amberdreams) wrote2015-05-11 07:12 am
Entry tags:
Downer post - no squee here
Warning - not a happy post. Personal and stuff so don't read if you are looking for upbeat me.
Coming down…
I was ok over the weekend most of the time but I did have a meltdown yesterday morning. I went to the coffee lounge with Orlando Jones (who is, by the way, a fascinating, funny and really sweet chap), and he was talking about accents and voices. He started saying his Dad had the most ridiculous way of speaking – really fast and stuttering, and it always made him laugh because half the time he couldn’t understand a word his Dad was saying. It was a funny story but for some reason I had a gut reaction to it and was tearing up. Luckily I managed to squish down the urge to cry and thought I was back in control. However, I then bumped into jj and Alison in the hotel foyer, and June asked how I was doing. I started explaining I’d felt a bit emotional in Orlando’s lounge and bam! I was sobbing. Fucking embarrassing, right in the middle of the hotel.
Funnily enough, people probably thought I was just getting hysterical about J2 (their photo shoot was going on at the time) – because the corridors were littered with weeping women.
I am dreading the funeral. To be perfectly honest, I don’t see how an occasion that you know will be fucking traumatic and gut-wrenching will somehow make you feel better afterwards. I don’t get this ‘saying goodbye’ business. I already did that in hospital while he was still breathing and maybe could hear me and that was far more important that sitting there with a bunch of people, at least some of whom are kind of there to see the family grieve in public.
I understand that other people need to say their goodbyes, and I do want to hear people say nice things about Dad, of course I do – BUT I know tomorrow I probably won’t be able to take any of that in, or fucking remember it either. In a way, I’d rather do the whole Speaking for the Dead performance in a year’s time, that would make more sense to me.
So yeah. Dreading it.
Coming down…
I was ok over the weekend most of the time but I did have a meltdown yesterday morning. I went to the coffee lounge with Orlando Jones (who is, by the way, a fascinating, funny and really sweet chap), and he was talking about accents and voices. He started saying his Dad had the most ridiculous way of speaking – really fast and stuttering, and it always made him laugh because half the time he couldn’t understand a word his Dad was saying. It was a funny story but for some reason I had a gut reaction to it and was tearing up. Luckily I managed to squish down the urge to cry and thought I was back in control. However, I then bumped into jj and Alison in the hotel foyer, and June asked how I was doing. I started explaining I’d felt a bit emotional in Orlando’s lounge and bam! I was sobbing. Fucking embarrassing, right in the middle of the hotel.
Funnily enough, people probably thought I was just getting hysterical about J2 (their photo shoot was going on at the time) – because the corridors were littered with weeping women.
I am dreading the funeral. To be perfectly honest, I don’t see how an occasion that you know will be fucking traumatic and gut-wrenching will somehow make you feel better afterwards. I don’t get this ‘saying goodbye’ business. I already did that in hospital while he was still breathing and maybe could hear me and that was far more important that sitting there with a bunch of people, at least some of whom are kind of there to see the family grieve in public.
I understand that other people need to say their goodbyes, and I do want to hear people say nice things about Dad, of course I do – BUT I know tomorrow I probably won’t be able to take any of that in, or fucking remember it either. In a way, I’d rather do the whole Speaking for the Dead performance in a year’s time, that would make more sense to me.
So yeah. Dreading it.