I woke up this morning, procrastinated for about a half hour and finally dragged myself out of bed - took a bath - did the whole "get-up-and-get-moving" thing.
Checking in with myself, I feel sad - not an overwhelming sad - a quiet shadow-sad that promises to follow me around today. How long? You never know with this stuff. Some days it gets worse - some days it gets better. This morning, the sadness just hangs on me like a weight.
I'm doing "normal" things, but nothing feels normal.
I watched a movie (and took a nap somewhere in the middle). The Phillies are playing Miami and we're (the Phillies) winning, but I don't have much interest.
I was supposed to meet my grandson (Greg's oldest son) for lunch today, but it wasn't a good day for Gregory. He was doing some paperwork for his mother and I think he just wanted to stick close to home. I'm glad he did. I think about Amy and the kids often and how they must see and hear Greg everywhere in the house. I wonder if, at some point, that might be a comfort, but right now, I imagine it's beyond difficult.
This has been a busy week for me - people to meet for lunch (easier than having them come here - I don't know what to say) - a doctor's appointment - an appointment with my accountant - medical test for Michael - an evening visit from friends. Busy week.
Today with the lunch cancellation, I'm left to face my sadness - no running. I think that the busyness may be my attempt to run from the pain, but it's always there. It follows me.
I can function (fairly well) - do what I need to do. I appear normal, but I keep running into the sadness. It's like a huge glass window that I think I can run through, but instead I run directly into it - hard - over and over.
When will the days not seem so long? Will the shadow-sadness ever leave?
Checking in with myself, I feel sad - not an overwhelming sad - a quiet shadow-sad that promises to follow me around today. How long? You never know with this stuff. Some days it gets worse - some days it gets better. This morning, the sadness just hangs on me like a weight.
I'm doing "normal" things, but nothing feels normal.
I watched a movie (and took a nap somewhere in the middle). The Phillies are playing Miami and we're (the Phillies) winning, but I don't have much interest.
I was supposed to meet my grandson (Greg's oldest son) for lunch today, but it wasn't a good day for Gregory. He was doing some paperwork for his mother and I think he just wanted to stick close to home. I'm glad he did. I think about Amy and the kids often and how they must see and hear Greg everywhere in the house. I wonder if, at some point, that might be a comfort, but right now, I imagine it's beyond difficult.
This has been a busy week for me - people to meet for lunch (easier than having them come here - I don't know what to say) - a doctor's appointment - an appointment with my accountant - medical test for Michael - an evening visit from friends. Busy week.
Today with the lunch cancellation, I'm left to face my sadness - no running. I think that the busyness may be my attempt to run from the pain, but it's always there. It follows me.
I can function (fairly well) - do what I need to do. I appear normal, but I keep running into the sadness. It's like a huge glass window that I think I can run through, but instead I run directly into it - hard - over and over.
When will the days not seem so long? Will the shadow-sadness ever leave?
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