It's been 4 months since my dad died. It's been 3 months since our dog died. I'd like to think that I am moving forward. Perhaps there is proof that I am since I no longer cry as I fall asleep and I no longer cry as I'm waking up. But I still cry. The sharpest pain has diminished to a dull ache, with smaller moments of sharp pain.
Every day there is an ad for upcoming father's day. Every day I get an email from a pet store. Every single day something reminds me of the pieces of my life that are missing. I can't bring myself to form the words that explain my loss. I can't say the dog's name. I can't look at photos. I can't breathe.
I am lost. Don't get me wrong, I know where I'm sitting right now (though some days when I'm waking up I'm none too certain what city I'm in...). But I 'm lost in an entirely different place. Most people who go through all this have some routine to return to. A sense of "normalcy" that I haven't had for a few years. Without that root, I find myself adrift.
I don't want people to worry about me. I don't want you to worry about me. I put on a brave face and I post one pleasant thing each day on Facebook or Instagram.
Even the worst day always has one good thing happen. Coffee - good.
Found a quarter - very good. Sunset - excellent. Ice cream - freaking
fantastic. Then there are the other 23 hours and 45 minutes to deal with. If I'm lucky, I can sleep through 6-7 hours. Which is an improvement from the four hours I was getting when I having vivid dreams about my dad and/or the dog.
Previously when I was drifting, I assigned myself tasks. Tasks like laundry, bake bread, create a book based on a vacation, etc. I'm doing laundry. I'm in Palm Springs so it's mostly t-shirts and swim suits. It takes a couple weeks to really build up a full day of distraction. We are borrowing a friend's house. It is not outfitted to really go to town and bake. Besides, I've lost my appetite and my ability to follow an entire recipe. I've tried making a list of things to work on, but I can't seem to finish making a list. Even writing this post has petered out and I can't remember where I was headed when I started it, and so I don't know how to end it.
I'm killing time. I'm letting myself heal. At least I hope I am.
2 comments:
Love you. <3
2015 was the bitch that kicked our ass, alright.
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