The 7 Stages of Buttercuppity Grief (THE ILLUSTRATED VERSION!!)

Deciding to close the shop was not easy, and it's been a journey. I *think* I am coming out on the other side of this journey, but it's been a long few weeks - and I've been through all SEVEN stages of grief, although at first I thought there were 12 stages but apparently I am mixing up the stages of grief and a 12-step program (although I could TOTALLY use a 12-step program for my addiction to cupcakes and ice cream.  DUDE.  I should start that.)

What else to do, then, than to share an illustrated (and HIGH QUALITY ILLUSTRATIONS, YO) version of these stages?  You are WELCOME.  

STAGE ONE:  Shock and Denial
When I first found out what was going on, I was obviously in shock.  Yeah, and denial - both of which resulted in me saying ridiculous things to my doctor and MRI guy, like "ARE YOU F***ING KIDDING ME??"  No, they calmly replied.  They were not kidding.  This was not a joke.  I was sick from being too fat.  YAYYYY.  Yayyy for my fatness.  Argh.  I had a choice to make, because this condition was not going to get better and I would and could end up, sooner rather than later, blind or I could have a stroke, and it was a matter of when - not if.  Yayyy again. 

This lasted for a few days, which consisted of me walking around spouting off the general ridiculousness of doctors, MRI machines, fat, brains, and humanity.  In that order.  And I also ate a lot of ice cream, because when you are told that you are killing yourself due to your fatness, the most rational thing to do is, of course, to drown your sorrows in heavy cream.  And then I had to make some decisions.


STAGE TWO:  Pain and Guilt
After talking with my family, my doctors, and a few wonderful, amazing, supportive friends, the decision was quite clear - I couldn't concentrate on my health while working so much at the shop.  We decided to close.  That sounds like an easy decision, of course, but I don't think anyone who wasn't in on this decision-making process will ever know how much I agonized over this.   The pain of closing my happy pink shop?  Overwhelming.  The absolute guilt of disappointing so many wonderful customers who have trusted me with their stories and sewing victories and small parts of their lives?  Even more overwhelming.  This was not a good time for me. 

STAGE THREE:  Anger and Bargaining
A few days of the pain and guilt led to complete and utter anger and disgust at myself.  ANGER, people.  I was furious that my weight - that thing, that stupid horrible THING that has always managed to get the best of me - was causing this.  I don't know how this works for other people, but for me, WEIGHT is like it's own entity, separate from me and causing all kinds of problems.  My archnemesis? WEIGHT.  And she's a BITCH, and I hate her.  So, yeah... anger at my weight and the situation, and bargaining with myself and with God and with cupcakes and with anything else I could think of.  Again, a bad few days. 

STAGE 4:  Reflection and Loneliness (or ALL ABOARD THE DEPRESSION EXPRESS - WHEE!!)
And  yet another few days.  I'm really not very good at being depressed, so this lasted for a few days - I get sick of myself pretty quick when I'm in a funk.  I knew that I had to close the shop, but these were the days when I realized that I had to let go of this part of the Buttercuppity dream, and that was sad.  So I walked around in pajamas for a few days, just sad.  I also watched the entire series of The Forsyte Saga (parts 1 and 2!) because that is my "sad" tv watching.  (I have a strict M.O regarding depression and tv watching.  Relationship sadness = Sex & The City + Bridget Jones.  Family sadness = Anne of Green Gables (only the first two, though, because I didn't like the last one).  Any other sadness = any BBC historical miniseries)

 

And then... STAGE 5 :  The Upward Turn
It gets exhausting being depressed, and finally, slowly - with the help of my most amazing husband, Captain Hotpants, and the rest of my wonderful family and great friends, that this was the right thing to do and probably the Universe's way of helping me get in shape and get healthy so I could be around for my family for a long time.  And once I got that, the whole idea became much easier (although grief is strange, and I kept going back and forth between this stage and the sadness of Stage 4). I changed out of my jammies and started to understand that the future was still pretty amazing, just a bit different-looking than I had thought it would be. :) 

(PS, Buttercup is my cat.  I am a crazy cat lady.  :)  And yes, Buttercuppity was named after her!)

STATE 6:  Reconstruction
Whenever I am in a time of crisis, this is, undoubtedly, one of my best phases.  I am a planner.  I LOVE making plans!  And lists!  And new goals!  WHEEEE!  I also become quite annoying during this time, quoting Dumbledore at every possible turn (because why WOULDN'T you quote Dumbledore??  It's not like he's FICTIONAL or anything!!)  and generally making my friends and family quite crazy with the whole "WORLD OF INFINITE POSSIBILITY!!!" mode I am in. It is quite possible that I come up with Powerpoint Presentations and charts during this time.  And I very often curl my hair. 

YAYYY for Reconstruction!!

And, STAGE 7:  Acceptance and Hope

Yeah, this is my favorite of the stages.  I DO NOT like stages 1-4.  Stage 7 is good, although I still get a wee bit wistful at times.  I had to get here before I made the scary big announcement, and still...  grief is weird.  I do slip back into the other stages from time to time, but it's more manageable.  I've accepted this new twist in life, and I'm ready to move on to the next stage of Buttercuppity (and it's GOOD - oh, the things that are in the works!  I cannot wait to share!!). And I'm so excited and hopeful for the future - for a healthy, positive, delicious future.  :)    And before the crazy comments and emails, I am certainly NOT comparing this in any way to the death of a loved one... but for me, it's a big part of me - years of dreams and hopes in the making - that I had to let go.  So there is grieving.  But it's going to be okay.  In fact, it's going to be fantastic. :)