Stages of Grief
I deal with grief in my own way. I know that I'm supposed to deal with denial and anger and bargaining before I even begin to encroach on acceptance. I am not one to deal with things according to a predetermined grief schedule. Rather, I prefer to deal with my grief aboutWiggy's passing in my own way.
Denial. I poked Wiggy's stiffened corpse several times. Surely, she wasn't dead. I looked at the cat. He was fine. I had not neglected to feed either one of them. Still, I couldn't help but poke her body a few more times to make sure that she was dead and not merely experiencing a bout of temporary rigor mortis. When I had assured myself that Wiggy was completely dead and not just doing that rodent dead routine, I moved on to my next stage of grief.
Disgust. I retched at the thought of having to pick up Wiggy's dead rodent body and bag it. I paced the floor as I decided whether I would keep the pig in my freezer or the fridge. I keep my vodka in the freezer and I would hate to sully it's delectable goodness with a dead rodent. However, I keep my pickles in the fridge and I would hate to sully their salty goodness with a dead rodent.
Bargaining. I promised that I would give Wiggy more organic vegetables if she would just live for another few months. I would never forget her vitamins. I would be a better rodent owner if only the rodent G*d would grant me a little more time.
Vodka. The vodka phase of my grieving process lasted quite a long time. The first day of vodka was a sad day. I cried and mourned the loss of my pet. The second day, I removed my clothing. By the third day of the vodka stage, I had forgotten not only the name of my former pet, but my own as well.
Nudity. The nudity stage and the vodka stage of grieving went hand in hand. I found it quite easy to remove all clothing while deep in my vodka phase. It is hard to be naked and to grieve at the same time as being naked on the lake is generally a joyous occasion.
Hangover. This stage of grief is the briefest stage for me. I am still awaiting this phase to fully hit. This phase necessitates the end of the vodka phase, which is still in full pour for me.
Apparently, all those months of therapy have helped. Judging from my bedroom floor, I have succinctly passed through the bikini, lubricant, red wine, and candle phases. I have to pass out now. Thanks for all your kind words about Wiggy. I think I'll pull through this nicely.
Mist 1
PS: A grief more real than my own...please show a little love. Visit Avitable to show a little more love.
Posted by Mist1 @ 6:08 AM
83 Comments:
Yep, you may need to deliver one of my fourteen eulogies one day...
Oh, Mist! Sorry for your loss. I'm sure Wiggy was a good rodent. It looks like you're handling things as well as you can. I mean, look...you've recognized that you're going through your stages of grief...and "knowing is half the battle!" LOL! Was that a quote from a G.I. Joe after-school special?? Hmmm
Anyway, hun...there's nuthin some good vodka won't fix! ;)
PS. I'll fix you a nice apple martini...You'll forget all your worries...or is that too fruity for you? I guess I'm a girly girl when it comes to my choice of drinks! lol
Yeah, pets are great until you've got to figure out how to remove their dead carcus from your house without touching them. I hate that too.
sorry about wiggy, that totally sucks. vodka is good.
1,
I am so sorry. I am right here when you are ready.
Wow. Had this been a cat, might we have seen you on Girls Gone Wild?
The rodent G*d...that's the Mouse King from The Nutcracker, right?
Thank heavens for the vodka.
http://img-x.fotocommunity.com/12/1273412.jpg
The pig was just holding you back anyway, Mist1.
Great to see you can find a positive perspective in all of this. You are quite special like that. (Special doesn't mean damaged over here, just so we're clear)
It is good to see you back. And your legs.. that picture is a keeper for those lonely winter nights.
I'm so sorry to hear you lost a pet. But at least her a$$ has been rubbed by your tender hands... you two had a special moment to remember by.
*hugs*
Go to the light, wiggy.
To big to flush, so what did you do with her body? Should I check my mailbox? Your vodka-fueled grieving binges are legendary.
People come and go in your life, as with animals.
Glad the vodka's been of great help.
RIP Wiggy.
You need more vodka!
Poor Wiggy.
Just tell me when and where to be there to give my naked eulogy. You do remember, right? You called me during the vodka phase and asked me to give a naked eulogy.
Oh, and did you get my email from this weekend?
Take your time with the recovery, especially the Vodka and Nudity phases which can be the most difficult. Seriously, easy does it. No rush.
I've got a bottle of Grey Goose, some nice olives, and well I wouldn't call it a rodent ..How about Mr Happy Hog..why not get back to the nudity phase together
Therapy is a wonderful thing isn't it? Glad you're getting through.
do your best to avoid the hangover stage of grief. shall i send more ketel one instead of flowers?
michael,
I'll do my best. Sometimes, I'm bad with math.
chrissy,
I always had a crush on G.I. Joe.
sheila,
That was a challenge. I screamed and gagged a lot.
elizabeth,
Vodka is divine.
0,
I'm almost over this. I swear. I'll be back to my regular self after a good night's sleep.
b.portland,
It's very possible. You got my legs today. It could have been much more graphic had it been my beloved Hissy.
jocelyn,
Once as a kid, the Rodent King gave me nightmares.
turner,
Thanks, that was lovely.
matt,
I know. She didn't even eat her own crap the way that guinea pigs are supposed to.
orhan,
That one was just for you, because you're special to me. Not in a retarded way.
curiosity,
I have great hands.
fringes,
Deep freeze. I'm contemplating a ceremony. I think I want to see how long I can drag this out.
venge,
I hope that I never have to stuff a person in my freezer.
akelamalu,
I can't even remember what I wrote here last night. I think I'm good on the vodka.
debbie,
Sigh.
av,
I would be honored. Yes, I got the email. So sad.
furious,
I appreciate your wisdom. Last night I was in the vodka phase, but the nudity phase never happened. I got stuck in the half nudity phase.
tom,
I'm coming over.
karma,
Now, I just feel bad from the vodka. It has nothing to do with the rodent.
hello,
I think it's too late. I've entered the hangover stage as of this morning.
You don't have a shoe shopping phase? That's a big one for me dealing.
I am sweating and shaking as I am typing this. It's sympathy hangover I think.
Why in the hell didn't anyone tell me about those other stages of grieving?!?!?!?
Well I wasn't grieving, but I was right there with you this weekend on the "Vodka," "Nudity," and "Hangover" stages Mist...right there with you!
Vodka...cures the mind and body of grief.
Wine is a close second...
Beware the phase after the hangover; the replacement phase. You may begin to feel the urge to frequent the PetSmart small animal aisle...
Vodka and nudity as part of grieving. Sounds good.
-N
Vodka makes me nude, too. Fortunately, I'm much more charming and good looking after a few drinks.
Don't forget to pick up some lubricant refills when you go for more vodka. To be out of either is painful.
susan,
I don't shoe shop in grief. I can never find any shoes that I like which only depresses me further.
nolff,
Thank you for your support.
tera,
I could feel you. Your spirit provided me with great comfort.
dazd,
Don't forget lubricant. It cures the body.
his sin,
No. I am scarred. Still, a ferret would be adorable.
natalia,
Seriously, I hardly remember why I was so upset.
nwjr,
I'm much more charming and naked after a few drinks.
lcg,
Thanks for the reminder. It's on my list.
Easy does it on the Vodka and nudity there Mist. You don't want to remember dead little Wiggy every time you take a shot or lie in bed with a stranger.
Oh may little Wiggy rest in peace. I'll have a glass of wine in his honor tonight!
Vodka and nudity eh, that's how I solve pretty much everything...
Seriously though, sorry for the loss love, feel better okay :)
The hangover stage is always the toughest. That, and the incarceration stage.
So will there be a Wiggy jr????
Do you have a slaw dog phase?
tallulah,
There are no strangers in my bed. I totally remember his name.
nina,
Have a carrot too. Wiggy always did like carrots.
flynn,
Who knew how effective the combination of vodka and nudity could be?
diesel,
I am hoping that the attorney on retainer stage will help me get through the incarceration stage.
cheeky,
I am afraid not. I am in no condition to share my heart and cage with a furry critter.
othur,
Gawd, that's a good idea. I think I'm going through that phase right now.
I really am sorry for your loss. I suggest you do whatever you do with wiggy before he begins to smell, however.
amp,
Is that what I smell?
Does the "Vodka Phase" ever truly end? For any of us?
I'm glad you are working through it all. Try not to feel any guilt when you go through the "Find a New Pet" phase.
A very smart friend of mine once told me that "guilt is a wasted emotion."
If only she knew just how right she was.
arthur,
Does the Find a New Pet phase involve less nudity?
those sound suspiciously like my "post-break up" stages, only with Jack Daniels instead of vodka.
flenker,
The adaptability of the stages is the real beauty.
You should patent your grieving process... it sounds WAY more effective than any HOW TO guide I've ever read.
I am sorry to hear of Wiggy's passing... my local vietnamese food place is interested in helping you with funeral arrangements.
mojo,
If I had any idea what I was thinking when I posted this, I would.
dallas,
I think Wiggy may not be considered "fresh" anymore. Do they take less than fresh meat?
I don't need a pet or person to die to go through the naked vodka phase!
Isn't this the same rodent that you gave sex to? I think so. I remember a post about that some time back. Sorry for your loss. Get some rest. :)
jenny,
Clearly, you are deeply in that phase. I wish you all the best. Also, I invite you to come over if you should run out of vodka.
comedy,
Yes, that's my beloved pig.
I am stuck in the tequila phase. I can't remember why anymore.
I'm sorry about Wiggy. I should've said that days ago. But I was in my bourbon phase. Actually, I'm usually in my bourbon phase. That explains alot.
wg,
My tequila phase is deeply connected with my Which One of You Did I Just Kiss phase.
mel,
I have yet to hit my bourbon phase. I fear it. Yet, I look forward to it.
I think I speak for the entire comment crowd when I state emphatically that we've decided tha you need to incorporate a blog cam so we may help you through any future naked stages you may encounter.
Think of how many readers you will help through their voyeur stage. For G*d sake think of your readers.
wave,
Dear G*d, please, please, please don't let there be any video from the weekend. And G*d, if there is, please, please, please make sure that there is nothing stuck in my teeth.
May your rodent rest in peace... and may your grieving hangover pass quickly. I agree, Vodka is one of the most effective phases of the grieving process. I hope you don't mind, but I've tagged you...
http://abiselebabka.blogspot.com/2007/06/tag-im-it.html
Wiggy has seen you in Vodka mode before, and we expect nothing less that a full blow out of the passing. Candles and bikinis don't always go well together, but you seem to be able to pull of just about anything with style. Glad to see you up and around. let me know where to send reinforcements. ;)
Not to get all tree-huggery on you, but why don't you throw Wiggy in the compost pile? In a few weeks you've got some perfectly wonderful fertilzer/soil to nurture your medicinal marijuana plants. Then when you smoke the fruits of your labor, you'll be getting high on dear, departed Wiggy. Without the vodka hangover.
I think you missed the "screw like a crazed weasel" stage. The presence of death always makes me horny. I suspect it's a reaffirmation of life for me to have sex with wild abandon. Either that or I'm a bit of a necro.
I'm drinking vodka in the nude in sympathy.
I personally prefer the Captain Morgan's get naked and wear an eyepatch phase, but we each grieve in our own way.
I'm grieving not being able to drink right now...it is very hard to get thru the vodka stage when you can't drink...
babka,
Is my deep despair not enough? Must you tag me too?
melanie,
I can pull off a bikini in style. I didn't even get a little rope burn from the strap.
bob,
Where did I put that pig?
dawn,
No. I got that part down solidly.
neil,
Thank you for sharing my pain with me and vodka.
adw,
I'm willing to try your technique.
nofear,
I am grieving for you.
You could give classes to the terminally ill.
I found it quite easy to remove all clothing while deep in my vodka phase
Scratch that, you should give me private lessons.
To bad there isnt a 'Take pictures right after vodka' stage. Sorry about the pet but I am sure Wiggy would have undstood why you got nakie.
In recent years, according to a few therapists I've spoken with over the past year, the psych wizards decided the stages of grief do not follow in order. You can be in the 3rd or last and then jump to the first and back again. The only thing that matters is to let yourself do it your way.
And I have to say, your method of grieving is the most fantastic I've ever read. Wish I could do it so well. Hell, I wish I could drink at least!
{{Hug}}
I'm off to visit the links you posted. More grief. It's everywhere for everyone these days it seems. I'm so sorry again about Wiggy.
poor wiggy. I hope you got over your disgust and buried him. or maybe you could have him stuffed!!
todd,
I could teach you, but I'd have to charge.
honk,
The picture on this post documents my nudity after vodka.
echo,
I'm hoping to slip back into the nudity stage.
miztris,
I really am not sure what I did with the pig. I haven't opened my fridge to check.
You know the therapy has paid off when you can identify and manifest your own stages of emoting. Good skills, Mist.
Puss
puss,
I'm practically an expert at this therapy thing. I'm not sure that's good.
I had a dog once, a collie-st.bernard mix (shat like a freaking horse), it died, never had a dog again. Grief without closure, bittersweet.
I was six when it died. I came home and he was gone. Put to sleep, my mom said, sounds so inocuous enough, a forced nap, I was six, I was put to sleep, too! Every day, at that.
But he never woke and never came back home, never ate another of my mom's high heels or my sister's cabage patch kids. Most parents would have bought their kids another dog, to help them forget and move on with the forging of new memories. Mine threw the dogfood and bowl away the nxt trash collection day.
When I was twelve, I finally got a pet. It was a lizard. I only had to spend half my life begging for a pet that wasn't invisible. I just hoped he would survive nap time, but saddly enough, only children ever get past being put to sleep.
eric,
I have a bad history with lizards. I feel dirty now. Must shower.
Oh no! Shower quickly!
We are talking about the same kind of lizards, right?
Anyway, I just got kicked out. I'll read your new post at the community college were I will be sleeping in the john tonight.
I love writng, but like you have found, blogging totally gets in the damn way.
eric,
Iguanas. Frothing at the crotch. I'll never be the same again.
I doubt I'd see that bridge crossed, either.
Glad I only had lizards that are free to you all down south. Of course, they double as cat food down theer. The good old "chameleon"--deathly death to crickets and meal worms alike.
I stepped on one once in bare feet. It was gross, to be sure. Bones and red sauce. But the gator back in the reeds looking out of the dark water sobers you up. Even when your only drunk from being a Detroit kid in Florida for a month who just crushed a lizard. The hose took care of business later. The gator got the animal control noose leash thing, and boom.
Then it was fire ant time.
(more tralfamadorian characters)
eric,
Crickets repulse me more than frothing lizard crotches. I used to have quite a collection of creepy pets that demanded crickets on an almost daily basis. I was always afraid that there would be a hole in the plastic bag and crickets would escape in the back seat of my car as I drove home from PetSmart.
We had crickets escape into our basement, where it took almost two years for them to die out. Even thogh we sprayed the bastards every hiding place. It was like camping in your house!
I hated them too. They always reminded me of cockroaches with athletic ability.
eric,
How is it possible that grasshoppers are so cute and crickets are so repugnant?
Thank you :)
And you tell me you're not an angel. Pssh.
orhan,
You asked so nicely. How could I deny you my naked legs?
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