Slow moving - slow thinking day - restless. No matter what I'm doing, I want to be doing something else - anything else.
Nights are awful - the thought of the lights going out makes me cry. I don't know what's coming, but I know something is coming. I try to fill my head with positive images - thoughts of my grandchildren - remembering concerts that I loved - images of the ocean - anything that might work.
Eventually, though, I fall asleep (usually) and then the sadness slides in between breathes - and I wake up in tears with thoughts about Greg's kids without a father - images of his youngest in tears, missing his dad. How can something this horrible possibly be true?!?
And then I try again - change the images - focus on things I can describe --- sky blue book case with curved legs - 4 shelves - books on the top shelf... If I do happen to go back to sleep, it's only for 10-15 minutes at a time and then I wake up in tears again. If the days don't kill me - the nights will.
My own pain is beyond description, but it's the years of pain that Greg suffered - and his sons' pain that drops me to my knees and makes me wonder how I'll live through the day.
By this afternoon (after a couple of 20 minute naps), I decided that I should stop "thinking" and instead - "do" something. I have twelve or thirteen bracelets to make for tomorrow, so I printed my orders and headed down to my workroom to make them.
I didn't feel like making bracelets, but then... I don't feel like doing anything today, so... why not make bracelets? Who knows what tomorrow will be like. I'd better "do" while I'm able. Just getting up and going to the workroom is a small victory for me today.
Bracelets made - notes written - a couple hours of music and solitude helped.
Sandwiches for dinner (thank you, Michael) - a movie - and then bed.
I dread the night.
Nights are awful - the thought of the lights going out makes me cry. I don't know what's coming, but I know something is coming. I try to fill my head with positive images - thoughts of my grandchildren - remembering concerts that I loved - images of the ocean - anything that might work.
Eventually, though, I fall asleep (usually) and then the sadness slides in between breathes - and I wake up in tears with thoughts about Greg's kids without a father - images of his youngest in tears, missing his dad. How can something this horrible possibly be true?!?
And then I try again - change the images - focus on things I can describe --- sky blue book case with curved legs - 4 shelves - books on the top shelf... If I do happen to go back to sleep, it's only for 10-15 minutes at a time and then I wake up in tears again. If the days don't kill me - the nights will.
My own pain is beyond description, but it's the years of pain that Greg suffered - and his sons' pain that drops me to my knees and makes me wonder how I'll live through the day.
By this afternoon (after a couple of 20 minute naps), I decided that I should stop "thinking" and instead - "do" something. I have twelve or thirteen bracelets to make for tomorrow, so I printed my orders and headed down to my workroom to make them.
I didn't feel like making bracelets, but then... I don't feel like doing anything today, so... why not make bracelets? Who knows what tomorrow will be like. I'd better "do" while I'm able. Just getting up and going to the workroom is a small victory for me today.
Bracelets made - notes written - a couple hours of music and solitude helped.
Sandwiches for dinner (thank you, Michael) - a movie - and then bed.
I dread the night.
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