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some days, like today, I wake up feeling pretty strong. I shower, get dressed and sometimes even wear make-up or accessorize. I get to work on time and I’m productive. I feel a sense of accomplishment and pride when I’m crossing things off my to do list and thinking about ways to improve processes or help my department and the company for which I work. It feels familiar; good.
Then, sometime in the afternoon I don’t know what happens. Maybe it’s the time of day that my mind would start to wander….what to make for dinner…what can I accomplish when I get home…that sends me back to the dark side. Maybe it’s that uncanny Mom-yearning we all feel when we miss our child. I love having photos of both of my children around me at work and I feel like it gets me used to the idea that he’s not really GONE gone…he’s just taken on a different form. It feels comforting to look at it that way: that he’s always with me. But once in a while, I will look at a photo…and I can’t help but think these awful things.
I look at his neck, where those thick tubes went to his heart for the life support machine. I look at his soulful green eyes and remember pulling back his eyelids and hoping for a flicker of some sort. I remember his hair and the feel of it under my lips. His hand slipping casually and automatically into mine when we walked together; later holding it and photographing it so that I could remember later on…
some days, I can’t even get out of bed. I wake up from restless sleep or maybe just a few minutes / hours of sleep and I hate that I woke up at all. I drag myself up and sometimes can’t even bring myself to take a shower. The responsibilities of the day weigh heavily on me and the day seems never to end, clouded by depression.
I’ve also started having the most horrific nightmares. I shudder to even remember them and could probably never actually speak them out loud. My subconscious unleashes a fury sometimes when I’m asleep and woo, let me tell you. It could rival any horror movie out there.
I know that I’m supposed to move on with life, and I’m trying. It’s just so difficult when the pain is so intense. When I’m feeling good, I get lots of things done and make grand plans to accomplish more (by the way, my idea of “grand plans” = clean the house, finish a project, etc.). But the strength always seems to fizzle out so quickly and the housework gets out of hand. Then I sit, depressed and overwhelmed, at the amount of things-to-be-done all around me and I just want to crawl in a hole. So much to do that I just want to say forget it all. Maybe I’ll feel strong enough later.
At some point, I think it would be good for me to sit down and try to envision what I want my life to look like. Instead of focusing on the black hole of despair that threatens to eat me alive, maybe I could try to inspire myself with some things to look forward to or work towards. Unfortunately, I’m still in a place where I need to work towards cleaning this house and getting to the grocery store. 😦 blech.