So. It is October again. The month of diagnosis. Last year, people said not to dwell on the "minor" milestones...which I hear. I don't agree that any dates this month are minor.
Regardless, I suppose I am doing better. I am aware that I am healing because I am starting back into routines that used to be easy, or at least things I didn't even think about, like reading to the kiddos every night. The strength for some of that "standard" stuff just wasn't there. It wasn't any sort if discernible weakness. It was just a wall. It got to a certain point in the day, and I had no more "function buttons" to access.
I guess that, as this becomes clear, I am able to notice other places where I am becoming aware and able again, as well as the other walls that still remain. The odd thing, however, is the lack of definition. I sort of see the walls. I definitely feel them. Yet I have no idea what they surround...what they are blocking. I can make guesses and those guesses are likely pretty close to the truth. Except whatever truth might have begun in those spaces could have morphed into anything this past year and 5 months...
I used the word "bored" tonight. I hate that word. It is the nails on the chalkboard of my soul. But there it sat, grinning like the Mad Hatter, drooling and hopping on my chest. I have some book ideas and now that I got paid, I can download them to my kindle. I watched one of my shows. I noticed a buzzing empty where inside parts of me used to be. And I just sat and stared into space. I even cleaned a little...sort of...
I remember how things used to be before John and I feel confused. I worked, I read and saw movies and went to bars alone... I went out and searched for connections. I volunteered or just did stuff. I do stuff with my kids now...we go to festivals, the library, the park, the mall to hit the play area and get DQ...we are planning a hike or drive to Shenandoah and the pumpkin patch. But most of this is to give joy to them. I get joy vicariously, but it all still leaves me quite empty. A confused sort of empty. I am not sure I am explaining this well. I suppose I just feel like a long time underlying purpose to my life before was a longing to find this person to connect with...and now...now it's like I just search for momentary pathways to smiles, which enable one foot to land in front of the other because I just don't know what else to do.
I thought I wanted to date...to find connection again. In retrospect, that's kind of funny. I reached for any hand to hold, for any way to feel connected, not alone...the alone of being a widow, of being without him, was more terrifying than any bad choice I could ever make...that's how it felt. But my last date was such a foolish grasp at hope with my eyes closed that it felt as if the universe sucker punched me while drenching me with ice water and stabbing me with shallow daggers in the kidneys. Seriously. The risks I took in one day, with my body and my life and my kids...it was beyond dumb. We were lucky to the moon and back that nothing worse than an accidentally stepped on laptop resulted.
So here I am. Tired, but not sleepy. Bored. Numb. Trying to make some healthier choices, for my body and my heart and my family. Trying to move forward slowly while searching for a way to unstick the stuck feeling that pervades my heart. Trying to keep on trying.
And so it goes.