I'm stuck somewhere in grief that I don't know how to escape. I'm eating too much. I'm not working out enough. I'm tired. It's a real physical tired that is debilitating. I have laid down almost every night before dinner and just slept, or laid in my bed and surfed Facebook or just laid there doing nothing.
I can't shake the oppressive weight of this thing. It's laying on me like a fallout blanket, smothering me in lead that doesn't let in anything, or let anything out.
It's making me question everything and everone, feel isolated, feel annoyed and separate. It also makes me just not care. I feel like all of my choices are wrong. I feel like I don't have choices also. Duplicity in my own anxiety is good times.
My friend laid in bed watching Voyager and doing not much for probably a year after her mom died. I didn't understand it then. I felt the urge to say "Your mom wouldn't want you to do this." I wish people would fight the urge to say it to me, I know my mom wouldn't want me to curl up into a ball and die. I'm not talking about feelings and physical effects that are a choice. I understand it now.
There is a part of my brain that is screaming STOP IT GET UP GO DO SOMETHING MAKE A LIST ACCOMPLISH THINGS TALK TO YOUR FRIENDS GET ON TEAM SPEAK AND TALK TO YOUR FRIENDS WATCH MOVIES WITH YOUR HUSBAND PLAY WITH YOUR KIDS GET UP GET UP GET UP GET UP.
That part fails as I roll over with tears streaming down my face, immobilized by the blanket of grief.
I'm not feeling like self harming, I don't want to be dead. I don't want anyone else to be dead. So no worries there. I'm not seeking escape even. I'm just...devastated. Like a city that's been bombed. I'm blown apart. I'm flattened. I'm in pieces all around, small broken pieces that won't ever go back together again.
I struggle even talking about how I feel with the people who love me, I struggle writing it down. I feel like I sound crazy. I'm not crazy. I'm grieving. I'm allowed to grieve. I guess there is a part of me that never equated grieving with so much pain. I thought I'd felt it all when Chuck died last year, I thought I knew what pain was.
I didn't begin to know.
I'm going to start today making a serious effort to shove this away from me. I don't know what else to do. It's the moments of inaction that overwhelm me the hardest so minimizing those is something I am going to need to do. And despite the fact that I might not actually have much to say, I need to be closer to and in more contact with the people I love. I need to seek out normal, and go through the motions until it IS normal again.
I feel like my life stopped on September First and every single day since then has been me watching someone else be me. Even when there have been good days, I haven't felt them or truly enjoyed them. I'm missing my own life. I want to be back inside my own skin.
Wish me luck.