I had such a weird day of ups and downs galore.
I'm so sluggish and tired today after a weekend of helping out with the art show. Everyone was a bit tired today.
I had such down points today.
Actually I felt kind of hopeless today. I don't know what to do with my life and I still have days where I struggle so much with the trauma of my husband's illness and death.
As any widow(er) knows, it can sneak up on you at any time and punch you in the gut.
Plus I'm still tapering off an anti-depressant I've been on for 12 years. And like a doucheketeer I accidentally missed one of my other meds yesterday.
My dog found it on the floor, picked it up, and spit it out practically at my feet today as if to say, "HEY, you forgot this yesterday, asshole!" It must have fell out of my pocket and I didn't realize it. I'm just really freakin' glad he didn't eat it.
Anyhow, to try and break out of the hopelessness I was feeling again we got out of the house for a short trip to the local wal-mart. Yes I know they're evil but I live in a small town and there's not much to choose from when you have limited time.
On the way to the store we drove by the local cemetery and I saw a young man lying in the grass along side a fresh grave covered in flowers.
That image will be burned in my brain forever.
My husband is not buried. His ashes are with me in a beautiful wooden box hand-carved and painted by Dave T. But I know how that man felt.
Early on after his loss, there were many nights I held onto my husband's picture and ashes and just lay there with him wishing he would come back....wishing it was somehow not real....wishing it was somehow just a nightmare. Lying next to his remains somehow kept the connection alive.
And then we were in the store and shopping. I found a cheap pair of sandals that fit my feet like they were made for them. I got a pair in red and a pair in black and they are so comfortable that they somehow made me feel good emotionally.
How awful is that after seeing a man stretched out beside a loved ones grave?
Shoes and graves and my husband in a box.
I just don't know what to make of today. Everything is so bizarrely juxtaposed.
What do I do with my life?
I lived on after he died and I can't stay hiding in this basement for ever. How can I go on when I still doubt that I took care of him well enough, that I was even a good person to be in his life??? Did I do the right things when he died? Did he know how much I love him? So many doubts....so many regrets... I feel like I wasn't good enough for him and yet somehow he loved me.
My therapist would hate that I said that. She sees the progress I've made and is constantly reminding me how harshly I judge myself.
Today I'm so confused and lost and on days like this I feel like I am inside someone who hates me. Self hatred and self harm are still daily struggles for me. Even thoughts can be self harm, did you know that? But as the Bloggess says, "depression lies". I think that goes for so many different mental illnesses, whether it's depression, anxiety, borderline personality disorder, or bipolar disorder.
Days like this happen and it's all about what you do with them.
I don't usually lay myself out like this in blogs anymore but I just couldn't help but feel that writing it would somehow help me breathe.
Strange, strange day.
Life is just bizarre. It's made up of an endless series of big things and small things, comforts and emptiness, confusion and love...
But occasionally there are cookies.
I'm so sluggish and tired today after a weekend of helping out with the art show. Everyone was a bit tired today.
I had such down points today.
Actually I felt kind of hopeless today. I don't know what to do with my life and I still have days where I struggle so much with the trauma of my husband's illness and death.
As any widow(er) knows, it can sneak up on you at any time and punch you in the gut.
Plus I'm still tapering off an anti-depressant I've been on for 12 years. And like a doucheketeer I accidentally missed one of my other meds yesterday.
My dog found it on the floor, picked it up, and spit it out practically at my feet today as if to say, "HEY, you forgot this yesterday, asshole!" It must have fell out of my pocket and I didn't realize it. I'm just really freakin' glad he didn't eat it.
Anyhow, to try and break out of the hopelessness I was feeling again we got out of the house for a short trip to the local wal-mart. Yes I know they're evil but I live in a small town and there's not much to choose from when you have limited time.
On the way to the store we drove by the local cemetery and I saw a young man lying in the grass along side a fresh grave covered in flowers.
That image will be burned in my brain forever.
My husband is not buried. His ashes are with me in a beautiful wooden box hand-carved and painted by Dave T. But I know how that man felt.
Early on after his loss, there were many nights I held onto my husband's picture and ashes and just lay there with him wishing he would come back....wishing it was somehow not real....wishing it was somehow just a nightmare. Lying next to his remains somehow kept the connection alive.
And then we were in the store and shopping. I found a cheap pair of sandals that fit my feet like they were made for them. I got a pair in red and a pair in black and they are so comfortable that they somehow made me feel good emotionally.
How awful is that after seeing a man stretched out beside a loved ones grave?
Shoes and graves and my husband in a box.
I just don't know what to make of today. Everything is so bizarrely juxtaposed.
What do I do with my life?
I lived on after he died and I can't stay hiding in this basement for ever. How can I go on when I still doubt that I took care of him well enough, that I was even a good person to be in his life??? Did I do the right things when he died? Did he know how much I love him? So many doubts....so many regrets... I feel like I wasn't good enough for him and yet somehow he loved me.
My therapist would hate that I said that. She sees the progress I've made and is constantly reminding me how harshly I judge myself.
Today I'm so confused and lost and on days like this I feel like I am inside someone who hates me. Self hatred and self harm are still daily struggles for me. Even thoughts can be self harm, did you know that? But as the Bloggess says, "depression lies". I think that goes for so many different mental illnesses, whether it's depression, anxiety, borderline personality disorder, or bipolar disorder.
Days like this happen and it's all about what you do with them.
I don't usually lay myself out like this in blogs anymore but I just couldn't help but feel that writing it would somehow help me breathe.
Strange, strange day.
Life is just bizarre. It's made up of an endless series of big things and small things, comforts and emptiness, confusion and love...
But occasionally there are cookies.
