Grief brings with a it a whole slew of difficult and confusing emotions. Sadness, fear, loneliness, anxiety, irritation, guilt, emptiness, regret, empathy, love...
From the moment I was given the devastating news, a feeling of profound numbness settled over me. That numbness there to serve as a buffer for the pain. To allow me to move forward and do difficult things. To sit in a tiny quiet room and make difficult phone calls, to plan and survive a funeral, to return home, to go back work... But slowly that numbness has slowly wore off. Not all at once, but a little bit here and there. Enough to allow pain to slowly return as I work through all of those complicated feelings. But with so much to process the sometimes the numbness gently returns, to allow me to time to heal.
One day a month or so ago I remember distinctly feeling different. I've been praying for peace and strength and to not feel so overwhelmed with life. But prayers aren't answered in your timeline or in the way that you anticipate. It took me a while to recognize the feeling. I felt... okay. Not normal, not great, but OK. A small step up from whatever I was. It felt strange and unfamiliar, and that alone felt confusing. But I also wasn't anticipating the feelings that would accompany it. I felt like a traitor. I know that Chris wouldn't feel that way and neither would a loving Heavenly Father or Savior, but that feeling was distinct. As if moving on meant I loved him less somehow. I've read similar feelings from other widows, so it's helpful to know I'm not alone. We'll just add it to the pile of complicated feeling to process and overcome. That feeling of "okay" only lasted a portion of a day, and the next day the feeling of being overwhelmed was back.
Is there some formula for when it's okay to feel normal again? Perhaps one week for every month or year you were together? A year total? Two perhaps? No of course not. Healing takes time and is different for everyone. It doesn't go off what you wish were so or others expect. Well meaning people have asked "You are doing better, right?" To which time frame are you referring to? This very moment, an hour ago, yesterday? Looking back on the week it was a week with lots of highs and lows. On Tuesday I took a day off work because I simply... couldn't. But overall the week was tolerable. A journey with grief is pretty much the same as our journey together with cancer, a roller coaster filled with unexpected twists and turns. Often when you least expect it. That's what makes a good roller coaster at an amusement park, but definitely not a fun part of the roller coaster of life.
Now about a month later I think I've had several more days of "okayness". I don't really know how to identify what has changed. I still feel sad and cry when I think about him. I miss him like crazy. I long to talk to him and tell him everything. I still don't know what the heck to do with my life. I still struggle to leave the house or have a desire to do things. I went and picked up groceries this week and cried all the way home. Talking with my aunt I still teared up while describing a happy memory. I still struggle to push my brain through the brain fog each day at work. However I can recognize that things are a bit lighter and not quite so exhausting. I was optimistic that the warmer spring weather would help, but I don't think that's it. I think time is just taking away the sting, a tiny bit here and there.
As well, sometimes it's just a feeling but sometimes it's a physical difference. Years ago before we were moving across the state. The pressure of trying to make things happen on a tight budget with a constantly changing timeline were stressing both of us out. My boss was observant and sensitive enough to notice and when our plans fell through at the last minute and the pressure was even heavier, he offered to pay to rent a trailer to help us move our final belongings. There was such an immediate relief of pressure, that we both noticed we felt like we could physically breath better. A emotional weight had been lifted off our shoulders and it physically manifested itself. One night before bed, I noticed a similar feeling of breathing easier. I took in several deep breaths before climbing under the covers and trying to sleep for the night. The next morning the heaviness was back.
With a weird week behind me, and nervous about the week ahead I was anticipating today to be a typical recharging Sunday. I've found that having predictability and structure is comforting to me and I've come up with things to fill my Sunday that make it more bearable. But it was not to be, today I've been a teary mess. I had to drag myself out of bed, I cried in the shower. I physically feel exhausted and just so... broken. Perhaps it's because I desperately wish I could talk to him and work through the worries that are on my mind. Did I ever say that I'm not a fan of roller coasters? But my sweet husband, he had some very difficult days and he pushed through them, and so must I. Each day brings me one day closer to him and I'll do my best to survive. I can't wait to talk to him again.
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