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.
THE FIREHOUSE CHRONICLES – EPISODE 16
1 month ago