How is it possible that I have lived for ten months without him? I’m not sure I really have. I don’t think what I am doing is really living. So many people tell me how amazed they are by my strength. I suppose I have found strength that I didn’t even know that I had. I am still functioning. But that’s all I feel I am doing most days. I’m functioning. I am doing the things that have to be done. I feed the kids, take them to school, soccer practice etc. I make sure they have clean clothes to wear. I take care of the house. I take care of the dogs. On occasion I even make myself go out and try to join the “real world”. But all the while I feel this overwhelming emptiness. Something is missing. Someone is missing. My someone is missing.
I have often said there are things in my life I can’t seem to get going again. It’s like I’m paralyzed. But it is different. Physically I am still doing all the things that I am supposed to. I am emotionally paralyzed. There are things that I know I should be doing, but I can’t seem to make myself do them. As much as I know it I can’t seem to make myself care about them. I was so passionate about finishing my schooling and I just can’t seem to buckle down and get everything transferred so I can get that going again. I want to go back to teaching aerobics and yoga classes, but the thought of being in a gym again just makes me so sad without him.
I have also had the opposite, those well meaning people who care about me and want me to be okay, that have pushed me to get back to “living”. To them I say, I hope you never have to know this kind of pain. I understand them, as its what I tend to do in these situations, even now. I have learned a lot about myself in this way. I have learned that it is okay to not know the right thing to say. I am sorry to my friends that I didn’t know how to help, and so I pushed my own agenda on them.
So here I am thinking about all the things I SHOULD be doing, still amazed by all the things I AM doing. So for today I am going to try and go easy on myself and accept this as a learning process. I am still figuring out who I am NOW. I am no longer part of “Ben and Jeannie”. So I have to figure out what that means……
Awwwww. This is sad.
ReplyDeleteI don't think you're being fair to yourself. Should-should-should. I hate that word. It implies that you're not good enough. Guess what? You ARE good enough. You're doing as well as you can do right now. Who says that you 'should' be doing/feeling anything differently? Wherever that voice is coming from- whether it's the little man inside your head or a well meaning friend, you have the power to tell that voice that you're doing your best right now. That's OK.
Don't judge yourself. You don't have to put on a happy face and pretend you are ready for more than you are comfortable with. Whether it's socializing or going back to school or whatever- be wherever you are today. You owe it to yourself to get rid of the story you are telling yourself that you "should".
We Love You! (((HUGGGSSS))) Don' t be so hard on yourself sweetie! Remember our conversation when you were here and how there is no time line on what you should be doing or how you should be feeling..don't let anyone or anything, tell you that You should be at this point now..Everyone has their own process and that process is never wrong. You ARE good enough!
ReplyDelete~Jenn
I know all too well how it is to be on auto pilot. That said, I think that you are doing a great job, I only wish that I had half the will power that you do. You are one of my widda friends that I look up to and admire. I know that it looks so much different from the outside in, but even if you are on autopilot, you are doing a bang up job!
ReplyDeleteThank you for having the courage to write about this. I have spoken to a few people about this, but haven't written about it on my page yet. I started to last night and could not get it down.
ReplyDeleteIt's how I've been feeling all this month…like life is happening and I'm just reacting. But I just feel stuck. It isn't the first time it's happened though. This is like a roller coaster that keeps going.
I'm at eleven and a half months. I get it.