I just have a lot of feelings

Hey. I haven't blogged in a while. A long while. Merry Christmas. Happy birthday, Justin. Happy New Year. Happy Fiftieth, Dad.

My grandma died.

God. This hurts. But you know, at the same time, it doesn't hurt enough. It should hurt more than this, I want to have some legitimate pain and get it over with and then be able to feel okay again without feeling wrong about it. My brother asked my mom if he could say something at the funeral tomorrow, and she said that it would probably be better if he wrote something and had the minister read it or at least had the minister by him and I said that I would go up with him and then my mom said that I was stoic. Stoic. Like I don't show emotion, which is true. Or maybe, just maybe, all the tears I had were dried up on Sunday. And Monday. And Tuesday. Monday night, when I came back to the hospital after spending the day on great-grandma duty, we just sat there and cried and cried, and I couldn't help but feel fake. And Tuesday, when she died, when her hand got colder and colder and turned pale and then her face went paler and turned a horrible shade of yellow, and she stopped breathing and stopped ticking and my mom took the oxygen mask off, then I cried. But as I was crying, as I was having what was supposed to be some sort of raw emotional moment, I couldn't help but wondering if it was real. If I was really feeling this or if I was trying to feel the way I knew that I was supposed to feel. And yesterday, I watched my grandmother be buried. It was cold, it's not supposed to feel like that. It's supposed to be something personal, but it was a backhoe, putting dirt in a hole. That was it. It wasn't human. And then we drove home, people remarking that Lithuanians seem to always put pictures on their headstones. And they didn't know the way home, they thought we might be there soon when we were at Woodward, and the whole time I was thinking that this isn't happening, this is all some crazy sick dream. And at the funeral? I didn't cry. I got a little teary-eyed at the end, but the one time when you're supposed to cry, I wasn't. I couldn't. And then my mom asked me if I wanted to be a pallbearer and I didn't know why and yeah, I went outside without my coat on and it was cold, but I should have been feeling it more. Just feeling the muchness of the situation instead of feeling out of it and disconnected, and even while I'm writing this, I'm wondering if my brain is crossing over to the fictional side, the side where I write feelings that I want to be real but I know aren't mine to feel.
And then? Then I went and did normal things. I went to my grandparent's house, where my second cousins were all talking to my great-grandma. They didn't really talk to me all day. They've seemed more and more separate as we've gotten older.
And then I went back to the funeral home and back to church and back to my grandparents house and then finally, home. And then I changed.
And I went to the movies. Like things were normal. And I saw The King's Speech, and I was amazed in every way and everything was perfect. And then I went home. And then things felt so normal, but they shouldn't be like that, they shouldn't be feeling normal. And then today, I woke up late and had tea and discussed amazing ideas and did silly things with a camera. Normal. Normal. Normal.
In the meantime, I'm worrying. I'm worrying about crazy things, like the fact that I still happen to be on page eight of Gulliver's Travels and I'm really self conscious of how much I've been eating today and I don't know if it's more or less than normal, and I still have to do that horrible gov project, and don't I have youth group tomorrow, and I still need to email Mr.B back and finish my FAFSA and oh yeah, my portfolio and there's no way I can graduate with a 3.5 now and no, I'm never going to be good enough and the books, they're never going to amount to anything.
I'm disabling comments on this because I don't really want to hear them. I love you, I love every last one of you, but you're all going to say that you're sorry about my loss and I thank you for your condolences and thoughts, but I just need to be alone in my head right now.
If you're one of my friends (and I'm speaking somewhat pointedly at a certain person right now), please realize that I don't always sound this crazy. I promise.