Not all THAT bad.December 7, 2010 at 10:53 am | Posted in Heartbreak, My life | 10 Comments
Second semester freshman year of college, I started dating a guy I met in the music department. He was a french horn player with a quiet way about him that I really liked.
We had been dating for maybe a month when it was time to go home for the summer break. But we promised to keep in touch via the US Postal Service. (Oh god, I’m dating myself. I was in COLLEGE when there wasn’t an INTERNET!)
Then I went home, and within days of being there, my world fell apart when I got the news of my cousin Amy’s suicide.
I spent that summer writing endless letters to all of my friends. I’d pour out my pain and grief into the written word. But during the day, with a few exceptions, life marched on. I didn’t cry much… and when I did, it was in the privacy of my own bedroom, far away from my parents.
And my poor sweet french horn player couldn’t understand it. How, when he called, I’d stand in the kitchen, my parents in earshot, and talk about my softball games, the kids I was nannying, playing volleyball at the rec center with my high school friends, practicing my clarinet (rarely).
Then he’d get these letters raw with pain, regret, and grief.
I never really could explain to his satisfaction how I was able to hold it together during the day and save up my grief for my letters and times where I was alone. How I was just
emotionally stunted private that way.
Either way, it didn’t matter. That summer was our undoing, and I never really saw him again.
I seem to be repeating that right now. Except this time it’s my blog that is the outlet for my pain. I wonder if J reads this and wonders why I don’t let him in, grieve with him, use him for comfort.
If I’m being truthful, I don’t really know why either.
Maybe it’s because I don’t want to fall apart. Because grief colors EVERYTHING, and I’m more afraid of wallowing and becoming bitter that other people have what I don’t than I am of pushing it aside and continuing to stand.
Because I don’t want O to have memories of when his mommy took to her bed for weeks.
So I keep standing. And most of the time, the days go by, and I get home and think, well, today wasn’t THAT bad.
And then I post, and all of the emotion comes rushing to the surface, and I write about pain and loss and how bleak everything seems.
Just seems to be the way I process stuff, that’s all.
So I just wanted you all to know. Yes, I’m working through a lot of loss right now. And unfortunately, you all get to see the raw, unadulterated stuff. Stuff I don’t really even share with my husband.
And in the meantime, I’m trying to be gentle with myself. I’m giving myself leeway to take the rest of the month off of running, since it’s been so busy and I’m having such a hard time with motivation. My plan is to start up in January with a schedule which has me running 3 times a week with lower overall mileage, so that I get the benefits of my runs without the current pain. Maybe I’ll sign up for the Superbowl 10k race I ran last year. Maybe I won’t. We’ll see.
And in the meantime, whenever I’m with my family, I focus on being WITH them. Staying in the moment, even with O’s tantrums on steroids we’ve been dealing with lately. Focusing on the things I actually HAVE in my life, instead of what I’ve lost.
And mostly, I’m okay.
I’m just muddling through, which is the best I can do, right?