I’ve been struggling all day. Fighting reality. I’m coming to realize it’s harder to know that changing my thoughts is a choice, ending the suffering is a choice, and being wholly unable to get there.
It’s not that I had a bad day. I got to hang with my two favorite people. We went to the farmer’s market, the sun was shining, there was nothing wrong. Except I wanted to be curled up by myself with a book, my journal, hot tea, and ridiculously dark chocolate. I’ve been taking time for myself lately, and I wanted today to be with my family. I was rarely present for it. Mama, I want your attention. I was sitting beside her but she could sense I wasn’t there.
Right after Benjamin died, I wanted a cave to retreat into where I could hole up and fast track my grief. Where I could cry, write, draw, read and sit without interruption. I found the cave in stolen moments. I needed it again today and couldn’t find my way. It’s easy to berate myself for this limbo, this in-between space where nothing is wrong and nothing is right.
There will be no 7 month anniversary as February has only 28 days, but I can feel my body’s memory awakening. My monthly cycle reminds me of the horror of those last weeks. My body aches. My heart aches. The tears lie in wait.
Tonight I am grateful to be alive. I am grateful that tomorrow is a new day.