It never ends...
This last month has been rough. Most of the time, I feel like I’m okay, but then there will be a moment, a trigger, a memory, a longing, or a yearning so deep and vast that it hits me like a ton of bricks from left field, and suddenly, I’m reminded that there’s nothing okay with me. This last month (actually, probably more like the last four or five months), I feel like I’ve been tested over and over again. Maybe when life doesn’t happen the way you hoped or planned, it hits you even harder when you realize you’re so very alone in this world. Like no one is on your side or in your court rooting for you. You feel like it’s just you against the world. It makes this new normal feel even more unreal and impossible to live in when you’re used to always having a fan club of one on your side, even if he doesn’t always root for you and puts you in your place when you need it, but he is always there, ever so present, with lots of love, support, and encouragement to keep your spirits lifted, even on the worst days.
When I have one of these rough days now, I feel so alone and broken; immobile and confined. Like the shackles around my wrists and ankles are so tight and strong that I can’t break free, let alone breathe. I know what I need to do, but I can’t. I’m too scared and frightened. I feel unprepared, ill-equipped, and incapable of taking a step forward, even the smallest step forward is hard. I look all around me, and everything feels the same and familiar, but there’s nothing the same or familiar about my life. My world has turned upside down, and most of the time, I feel like I’m trapped in the worst nightmare possible, in an alternate universe where you don’t exist and I don’t know how to live or move forward without you. Everything around me is very dark, cloudy, and hazy. I never know is around the corner, and I’m always unsure of what to do next and everything ahead of me seems unattainable. I feel like I’m always stumbling around in the dark, trying to find the switch to turn the light on. Trying to find my bearings. Trying to find some glimmer of hope. Trying to find something, anything, that I can hold onto to guide me through the haze and fog. There are times where I feel like I see the light at the end of the tunnel, but when I think I’ve finally arrived, I realize it’s far from over and it continues to get harder and harder, and the light at the end of the tunnel is even further and further away.
I still have moments, even ~20 months later, where I wonder:
A grieving widow who is trying to find meaning and purpose from her tragic event.