I am emotionally drained. Tonight feels like a rough one sitting at home alone yet again on another Friday night reminds me why I’ve been so hellbent on scheduling my life so full. Sitting in the feelings is exhausting. Sitting at home by yourself reminds you how truly alone your life has become. I was not supposed to be alone. I was not supposed to be 46 years old without children and without a husband. What the hell happened to my life? Most days I am so good. I am so positive and I try so hard. The pervasive silence and utter aloneness is deafening.
It does get better, life has gotten easier. But there are reminders everywhere of everything that was taken from me. I am no longer anyone’s priority. That is the strangest thing to go from being somebody’s first text, first thought, top priority to not even being a thought- to literally zero text messages coming in. Once upon a time I knew what my life was it wasn’t perfect, no one is, but I was happy - reallyI was.
There are so many parts of my life now that I love. there are so many parts that I’m proud of, but it’s all just a cover, distractions I delude myself with. Choices I have made out of necessity- out of survival -sure they are better choices than some. I am proud that I made better choices than others, but none of them were choices I ever wanted to make.
I never wanted to sit alone in my home- in this world that I perfectly crafted for 21 plus years alone on a Friday night again. Reality tells me that in three days it’ll be six months without Chris and my emotions are all over the place. The truth is I am hyper sensitive right now. I miss my life. I miss feeling like I matter. I miss being someone’s priority, I miss having someone to text during the day randomness about my day. I miss someone loving me enough that even if they don’t care, they still respond and act like they do. Chris loved me . not only did he love to me, but he really knew me. He knew me in ways Nobody else will ever get to know me ever again. Not only because I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to open up again, but also because nobody else will ever understand the last 21 years of my life -that is something that exclusively belongs to me and Chris.
I am worried I am never going to find anybody else who will love me the way Chris did. for so many reasons. I am worried that in simply surviving I have become so hardened that I won’t ever let anybody really know me ever again. I am worried the world has become such a hard place to exist in that I won’t even find anybody and worse yet if I somehow miraculously did that I am too messed up to even accept it.
Tonight is not an easy one. Tonight, I feel his absence. Tonight hurts. I know grief is never linear. I know it goes up and down and all around and bounces back-and-forth never in a straight line. I know I am doing OK but that doesn’t mean that I am OK all the time. It’s shocking to me honestly that I can sit here and feel this broken. I don’t like to be broken. I like to pretend I’m above it. Part of my amazingly tough demeanor is that grief doesn’t consume me the way it might someone else I pride myself on being so tough. I am the first one that will walk around and tell you I’m doing just fine. I hate it when I realize I’m wrong.
I’m ready to skip ahead I know not that long ago I said to not rush ahead through these messy parts but right now I just want to close my eyes and wake up sometime in the future when I’m happy and not alone. when I don’t have to walk through any more hard parts, I’m so tired of the hard parts. I am strong, but I am tired. Why do the hard parts never seem to stop? That’s the sick joke about grief. You literally were handed one of the worst most traumatic experiences of your life and then continually for an unknown amount of time you keep getting more and more hard parts- the hard parts don’t stop.
Grief is doing a number on me tonight. This is exactly why I try never to sit in my house alone. I’ve been pretty successful at avoiding it for the last six months. I can probably count on one hand the amount of times I’ve sat on my couch by myself and watched TV in the last six months I can’t be here alone- not really. Sure I love my house and love coming home every night after I’ve successfully filled my day with all of the distractions. I come home like a crazy woman and attend to my animals and do the things that I must before crawling into bed. I act like this is normal -like this is a life -when in reality all I am doing is avoiding the harsh truths. the truth that if I sit still too long I will remember. I will remember all the things that have happened to me and all the things that are missing in my life.
I can sit here all night and not talk to a soul and no one will text me. This is not how it was supposed to be. I drove by me and Chris’s favorite restaurant tonight and suddenly I remembered so many evenings spent there so many last-minute Friday night dinners.
Six months without him and God willing if I am lucky so many years to go. How did this become my life? I am so lucky and so many ways I have such an amazing family my immediate family, and my extended family are so wonderful. I wouldn’t survive without them, but none of it makes up for your person being gone no matter how hard you try to convince yourself you’re happy and you’re doing OK and thriving.
When will it be my turn? When do I get to be happy? Please tell me there’s a greater purpose out there for me. Please tell me I’m not spinning around in circles aimlessly for no reason. I am trying to be such a good person. I am trying to find the positive and the happiness every day. It’s just really hard.
It gets easier. It gets harder. Today it’s such a harder one so I guess I cry. I guess I break down. I guess I lie on the floor heartbroken feeling vulnerable and ripped apart feeling lost and unseen - honestly feeling so unimportant.
I’m tired. I’m just really tired.
No comments:
Post a Comment