I feel like my life is becoming unhinged. I’m dreading the future. So I need to remember what makes me happy, things I’m grateful for. So here it is:
I’m grateful for my loving family who will listen to me cry and bitch about everything on the phone. And their ability to try to give me advice knowing I’m not really listening because I feel sorry for myself.
I’m grateful for my dogs who love me unconditionally no matter how disheveled I appear when I come home from work. They don’t weigh my value on wins and losses.
I’m grateful for the friends I’ve met throughout Montgomery because when I feel at my lowest, someone will say something or I’ll receive a text and allows me to remember I have to continue to enjoy living and not have one part of my everyday influence and affect the better parts.
I’m grateful for my boyfriend who makes me laugh, doesn’t allow me to feel sorry for myself for a long period of time, and reminds me of all the positive relationships I’m forming and how I’m a good influence on his and others lives.
I need my grateful buoys to keep me from drowning. I feel like there’s too much on my shoulders and I’m sinking. Sometimes a little inner reflection can make all the difference. I’m hoping this helps. I’m going on a night run to clear my mind, exhaust my body, and hopefully destress so I can get a full night sleep.
As of late, I feel so much has been put on me. I’m as fragile as an egg-shell nowadays. I sit in my car on my way to work crying, and when I’m home, I sit in my car just because I feel it blocks out the world for moments at a time. I’ve chewed my nails to nubs, and the burning in my joints to flee are coming back. Cinder blocks are resting on my shoulders from the moment I wake up and get out of the warm cocoon of bed. I am struggling right now, I feel like so much of what’s going on around me is out of my control.
I’m worried about my job. I’m worried about my team. I’m worried about my online class. I’m worried about failing. I’m worried about letting people down. I don’t think I’m doing a good job.
Every inch of me is telling me to find something to distract the growing vines of desolation burrowing inside of me and digging deeper and deeper. But these feelings are fleeting. I know it will get better but weathering the storm right now seems like an inconvenience. So much has happened in a month between my grandmother dying, moving, never having time off, and then having someone I care deeply for be sent away for nine weeks, I feel like the weight of it all is crushing me. Making it harder to get my legs under me and move step by step.
I went for a run today. My mind was a vacuum and all my thoughts came and went like a flash. But one thing was apparent as I was running. My lows are extremely low and my highs are to the sky. I need balance and right now but there is no fulcrum.
Tomorrow has to be better.
Tonight I was called a sociopath. I’m hurt and livid. I don’t want to go too much into the reasoning of the person who said it, and the context it was in. I’m open to sharing, but that is far too private to share out in the open. All I can really think at this moment is, are you kidding me? Are you honestly claiming that I’m a sociopath? You are aware that you’re calling a person who lost their soulmate, their entire life, less than 2 months ago, a sociopath? Who in this situation appears to not care about the feelings of another? Who in this conversation is doing this for self-fulfillment?
I cared and loved someone so deeply, that my entire life has been turned inside out and flipped upside down, yet I am the sociopath? I have felt a plethora of different emotions over the last several weeks, and the amount of animosity and anger that is inside of me is becoming pressurized. I’m about to lose it in an epic way. The worst thing is, someone I care deeply said these things. This is a freezer burn. It’s cold and stings like all hell. I cannot believe that as people are starting to move on from George’s death, the feelings are I should be too. Just because my hurt, my sadness, my anxiety makes you uncomfortable, it’s in actuality what I need to feel, because it’s a “normal” response to losing a loved one. Not just any loved one, but someone who impacted my DAILY life. I cannot cover this up, because if I cover it up, it could result in an abnormal grief response. Frankly with how sad I am day-to-day, I can’t even begin to fathom what an abnormal grief response entails.
I wish I could curl up next to George and just have him stroke my hair and tell me it’s okay. Everything will be okay. Instead, I’m sitting here in my living room, alone, having the clicks of my laptop key board break the screaming silence.
Several times today I found myself staring at pictures and instead of longing for the happier times, I was getting angry. I’d look at George’s sweet smile and gentle eyes and then murmur, how can you have left me? I know it’s not his fault and there’s nothing I can or could’ve done, but the feeling of abandonment stirred something new inside of me. I’m pissed off. I’m pissed off that I have 40-70+ years that I have to go and I’m going to have to somehow figure out how to overcome this loss and move on. I wanted a life with him. I didn’t want a life with anyone else. He got to spend his last days knowing that I loved him more than anything else. And now I have to go on and I don’t feel his love. I felt his love but that’s the past tense. I’m scared to move on because I don’t want his memory to up and vanish. I’m terrified that it will. People will move on and once and a while see something that might remind them of their good ole pal George, but those reminders will dwindle as years go by.
You know why they say survived by in the obituaries. Because that exactly what we are. Survivors. He left me to figure out how to survive and get by without him. And it hurts. It’s painful beyond belief to have to tack on a new 24 hours from the day that he passed. Soon it will be 2 months, then 3 months, then an anniversary, etc. And no matter how many tears drown me and leave me gasping for fresher times, all I have to do is survive. Survive the waves of grief until it doesn’t hurt anymore. And I am just floating on. And maybe in 5 years or so I’ll see something and remember my first love George. But right now, everything I see reminds me of what it felt like to have him by my side and all I want is to have him back.