Sadness. A heaviness that just won’t lift. I seem to have a profound relationship with my bed lately. I know why. It’s where I get to forget for a few hours, shut my brain off and not have to deal with reality. It’s my escape because reality lately is colored in hues of grey. I don’t feel like myself. I feel stuffed in cotton, removed, almost outside myself, watching.
There will be moments when I descend into sadness, like a pit and the tears come. I feel lost. I lose a grip on reality and all I can feel is this heart wrenching pain. It doesn’t seem to get better, just more and more of the same. I don’t know how to move through this, I don’t know that there is an end in sight. I certainly can’t see the end of it and it fills me with despair and makes me feels more alone, less a part of.
It takes everything I have to go through the motions of daily life, to show up. This person takes over and I seem to run on automatic. I’m there but not there. Meanwhile this heaviness and sluggishness reign. I miss my energy, my zest for life and my smile. My heart feels heavy and it’s not going away.
Someone observed lately I’m still in love. My first reaction was absolutely not, no way, not after everything, no. But I’ve been thinking and there seems to be some truth there, it’s not like we can shut off what we feel for another person overnight. He seems to have moved on and I’m happy for him. A part of me hurts that he has so easily. Last weekend was proof that I haven’t. I am so not ready and that’s ok. It’s normal to be where I am at and it’s going to take time, much more time than I expected.
I went skiing with my father yesterday. It’s the first time I had been on skis since we split. It’s been six weeks. Part of me didn’t want to do this alone. I haven’t skied with my dad in 5 years, that’s a long time. But yesterday it was like we had never stopped skiing together. I felt in my element. More alive than I have felt in weeks, it was a great afternoon. I made some good memories. My heart lifted and I reconnected with me. That’s got to be a blessing right?
So I keep hoping. Day by day. That somehow this will shift. That I will shift. That it will get easier. That I will find moments of ease, lightness, peace and joy. It’s my greatest hope for me.