Sunday, August 23, 2009

if you don't have anything good to say....

This last week I've been shoved backwards to a place that I was just months after Jeff died. I don't know what has caused the backslide. I don't know where it came from. I just know that I feel drowned in grief and loneliness.
Each night, I've been forced to climb into my cold and empty bed before I've finished sewing arms on a dress, or without wiping down the stove, folding the laundry, making phonecalls needing quiter moments. I have no energy, no gusto, no strength.
I am always telling myself "You can do it! You really can. Take one step forward. Keep your head up! Make Jeff proud! Show your kids how strength propels you forward."
But now, I just, again, want to weep. I haven't washed my face before bed or brushed my hair before heading out the door. I just don't care or have the energy. It just seems that no matter how hard I try, I can't get anywhere. I force myself to work a bloody hard as I can. I have felt that I have had to hit the ground running and am hoping to continue my sprint throughout my life so that I can provide my kids with whatever they need and maybe compensate for a small fraction of what they lost.
But suddenly, I've tripped. I don't want to run right now. I can only cry and lick my wounds. I miss him so. I long to feel not so alone. Not so adrift and forgotten. I need something to change. I need to find something to hope for and feel exhilarated. I am too exhausted to even look to find that thing that may make it better - school, exercise, a new way to help our finances, support groups, medications, etc. I just want to lay down and rest. I want to do nothing. I want to sleep. I don't want to measure my words. I want to say just what the fuck I mean.
I ache to have someone hug me. Really hug me. To rub my aching back. To let me rest my head on their shoulder.
I just want it all to go away. I don't want to feel it alone anymore. I'm tired of being driven by fear. I'm tired of having this all swirling around in my head while I go about our day, but never get the chance to feel/deal/think about it.
I want a rest.....a long rest. A rest that no matter how many hours of sleep I get, no matter how often I get time to myself, no matter how many jobs I complete, will ever come. It doesn't exist. There's no hope of respite.

11 comments:

TheSingingBird said...

hugs to you sweetie... my offer is always available if you need it and i am saying prayers for you tonight.
i am asking for you to have peaceful and renewing sleep and to find new strength in the way that is best for you and your beautiful family.

Pete, Alison and Charlie said...

Jackie - I'm so sorry you're feeling so sad and alone, and I'm sending you virtual hugs from across the Atlantic. I know they're not a patch on proper hugs, but I just wanted you to know that I'm thinking of you. I've been reading your blog for ages now - I think maybe I clicked a link on Matt's blog? I can't claim to really understand what you're going through, but I lost my childhood sweetheart - my fiance - nine weeks before our wedding in a car accident, so I do understand a bit about feeling like everything has been swept away around you, and not really being able to ever see an end to it. It's been nearly 13 years since he died, and I am now married to another wonderful man and I have had two beautiful sons, but in spite of all that, the ache never really goes away. But for me, it has become easier to manage. When the bad days hit, they are just as bad as they were at the beginning, but they don't last as long, and I know better how to cope with them now. I really hope you get some rest and respite, and that you can keep putting one foot in front of another, knowing that there are so many people out here, who have never met you, but who care so much about you.
Sorry this is so long!
With love, Alison X
PS Your kids are SOOOO beautiful, by the way!

Kathryn said...

Ah Sugar,

I so wish I could give "normal" back to you. I hate that you're sad, frustrated, lonely, scared, tired, etc. It really must be so draining on you. Wish we weren't so far apart in this world.

But really look at much you've accomplished this past year. You're continuing to not only homeschool Liv, but Briar too AND take care of other children on your own. You've started your own business on Etsy, you've kept the house, garden and animals going and multiplying! I tell ya, that's more right there than I've done and I haven't been through what you have with the loss of Jeff. You are doing this thing called life and from where I sit, you're doing it pretty darn well! Still, I wish it were easier on you!

Hugs from afar!
Kathryn

Amber said...

Oh Jackie, that breaks my heart. I am so sorry you feel this. Your children will find you so strong and your strength gets them through. I am hoping each day you are closer to the happiness you want and deserve..xxxx

Marissa said...

I pray it turns around soon.
I pray you get that hug too.

Mrs. Spit said...

I think the worst thing about the waves of grief is that I can be mostly fine, as fine as I'll ever be without my son, and then I see something, and suddenly I'm not fine. And every single time it plunges me back into that hellish grief all over again.

I'm sorry. Deeply sorry. Praying that you will find your way out, again, and wishing you the strength to do it.

Jen said...

Ah Jackie, I'm so sorry. These waves of pain and loss suck, there's no other word for it. I hope this one passed through and washes away just a little bit more of the bitter, and leaves you with a little bit more of the sweet.

And thank you for sharing and articulating so clearly what's really going on with you. I find myself nodding in recognition and understanding so many times as I read your honest words.

-- A faithful California reader and fellow 2008 widow, Jen

Poppy and Mei said...

XXxx.

darcie said...

you have to pick your battles - and at the end of the day, brushing your teeth are wiping down the stove simply aren't worth it.
hang in there Jackie ~
and just you wait til you come to Minnesota one day - I will hug you, REALLY hug you - and though it's not the same as what I know you mean in your post -
You'll smile for a second - I promise!
;)
xoxo

Anonymous said...

I'm not sure how I came across your blog, but I'm so glad I did. I have a dear friend that lost her husband 3 months ago and it feels like I'm reading her blog. The things you say and feelings you're having are the same things she shares with me. I'm forwarding her the link so maybe she will see that she's not losing her mind- she grieving just as you are. I'm glad to know she isn't the only one not brushing her hair and I know she will be glad to know that, too :)

You are an amazing lady to share your feelings as you do and I wish you much love and peace in the days ahead.

Roads said...

Two steps forwards, one step back.

It's frustrating, and this grief seems to drag on for ever.

Sometimes you'd like to stick two fingers up at it (as we do over here) and then swear a whole lot more.

What's mystifying here, it seems to me, is not just that you're feeling low, but rather that you think by now these moods should have left you far behind. And the truth is that it goes on for much longer than we'd like.

Finally, and looking back, even the downward slides map progress. They take us to places and a different shade of depth that we hadn't seen before.

Just roll with it, and go with the flow. It's normal. It's crap, I know, but the one thing I can tell you is that this is normal. That's how this thing works -- brighter days will come, but there'll be darker days as well, often when you least expect them.

Keep going. Just keep going. Best wishes from London.