This week has kind of been another weird one for me in the way of feelings. I have had plenty of things on and have been quite busy, but I feel like I have coasted through it all in quite a disconnected way. It hasn’t been a bad week, just odd when I look back at it thinking about what to blog about.
These days I find myself going into each day waiting for it to be over. Almost like a count down to something, but I have no idea what. I have things on my calendar that are nice and I am excited about, but I just go through them when they come up, without any real connection to them, including things that I know I should be- and want to be- connected to. It’s like I get out of bed knowing that the sooner I start the sooner it will be over.
In the early days after Claytie died, this was kind of an all the time thing. It made sense because I was literally just living Minute to Minute trying to survive. As time has moved on, it has started to feel a bit less like that, but every so often it comes back with a vengeance. Everything feels big but in a really muted sort of way. It’s like I’m watching my life, but not living or feeling it – but at the same time also feeling it too much. … I’m not sure that the way I’m describing any of this will make sense to anyone who hasn’t experienced something like it, but I don’t know how else to explain it.
I know it is a kind of trauma response. The mind protecting itself from any more blows that life tosses your way. It’s like a cushion around you that stuff bounces off. I look forward, but not in a long term way. I have things that I want to do, but it’s really just a day by day thing. I don’t really look too far in front anymore, because it’s just too hard to imagine what that looks like.
Claytie and I used to have all kinds of plans for what we wanted to do years down the track… retirement plans and travel, big milestone birthdays, stuff with the kids and eventual grand kids all those kinds of things. Now all of that stuff is just a really big blank space in my head, and if there are conversations around it, it feels like I’m talking about someone else. It is like a wall comes down that I can’t see past. I know that Clayties sudden and unexpected death has caused it, and I know that I could be gone tomorrow too, so what is the point of planning too far ahead. It’s a really fatalistic way of looking at life, and it is not at all who I was or want to be, but it is absolutely part of who I am now. I know that I should “live everyday like it’s my last” – just like all those positive quotes on social media tell you to do, and while the advice is really true, and you absolutely should, finding the joy to do it in a meaningful way is hard.
Right now, everyday feels like I’m in a bubble, and when I look forward – or even backward for that matter, everything is blurry. I don’t like feeling this way. I know that stuff that has happened this year has triggered some of what I’m feeling. It is not stuff I particularly want to talk about because it is not resolved in any way, and it is upsetting. Again, it is my mind protecting itself, and I know that I will get through it.
What I do know absolutely, is that grief is hard; and that while it is easier to stay disconnected and to not feel everything entirely, that’s not really who I am – I’m just trying to figure out how to clear the blurry away!? I guess for now it is ok to do the day by day thing for a bit longer. All I can really do is listen to my body, protect my energy and try to do what feels best. I’ll continue to work at hanging on to the optimistic bits that come through, because that is who I want to be again. It’s just all part of navigating this new life I find myself in.