that’s how i’m doing.
restlessly numb with scattered severe thunderstorms.
instead of the full time agony of a smashed heart, instead there is still mostly nothing… but it’s far from being a calm.
its more akin to the tension filled moments before the storm strikes… in which the winds of physical responses whip around, but there is no actual rain.
and then, when i think maybe the winds will die down and calm will be reached, all of the sudden it hits with a fury… a massive wave overwhelming me… giant hailstones crashing… limbs i’d previously thought unbreakable tossed to the ground… rain that strikes like nails, forced sideways.
all i can do is hunker down and weather my way through them.
i hear the voices of people who know, who say its normal. who say it will pass. who label it grief and give me a list of stages, many of which do match the names of the storms.
i hear them say that its bringing healing, not death. that its a good thing. that it shows health. that it shows that even if he was just playing games, that i was doing right by him.
that its normal to grieve over something that i invested so much of my heart in and gave my best towards, only to find it wasn’t good enough, and failed anyway… whether that would be a business, a project, or in this case a relationship.
but this does not feel like something that is in any way normal or healing.
it’s very hard to believe that it’s progress as a wave crashes over your head, and you sit there, deep under the water, seething with such anger as you don’t think you’ve ever had in your life… so burning that your body literally shakes… and every tactic you know is supposed to work to diffuse it hasn’t the slightest effect at all.
and its all that you can do to just try and keep it contained enough to not lash out and act from it.
its all you can do to just try and get through enough of the day normally enough to pass for functional.
the meds help with functioning.
they bring a bit of a focus to the restlessness… a motivation to get things done. it loses a bit of mental clarity… causes me to make stupid mistakes and seem careless… but right now, so does the restlessness, so its all about the same.
but they bring with them a weird feeling of acting ok while not really being ok. of being happyish, but not actually feeling happy.
its as if the body is set on happy, the heart is set on agony, and the mind just wants it all to be over…. for whoever’s life this is to please come and trade me back and give me back my nice, calm, logic ruled, not easily shakable zen.
but the meds wear off.
and then comes the weariness.
its like a physical tired…. and i even start yawning and yawning. i feel the need to go to bed at 630 at night and never leave it again.
but this tired is not physical, and sleep does not come.
this tired is of the heart and the mind.
sleep doesn’t fix the weariness when it does come in spells throughout the night.
nothing that is supposed to bring calm and peace and relaxation does either. the restlessness won’t allow it.
living day by day is a lost cause. living moment to moment doesn’t help when some of the moments hold great misery.
right now, i live task to task… pushing myself to complete things even when i physically have reached the limited where i shouldn’t…
because if i don’t keep moving and keep pushing…. then even the realization that i won’t have clean socks if i don’t do the laundry tonight seems like an insurmountable issue that i just can’t muster the motivation to accomplish and instead just dissolve into tears.
the clock is not my friend. it tells me how many more hours there are left to endure in each day…. tells me how short the spell of sleep was… tells me that its lunchtime and i really ought to be hungry, so i should probably try forcing something down quickly and hoping it overcomes the queasiness enough to stay down.
but the calendar is just as likely to make me cry… telling me how long its been. that it’s been more than 8 weeks since may 10th. its not even may anymore. june is even completely gone.
but my life feels like it will forever be may 10th. and my mind beats my heart again telling it that it should long since be over this…. that it wasn’t that bad… and to just let it go already.
the mind battles the heart, battering it, trying to force it into coming into line with logic… trying to get the feelings to match up with what they should be… trying to listen to the voices and advice that point out the obvious.
but the heart has more control over the mind… to bend it back over and over into obsession… to keep making it try and find something, anything, that makes all of the pieces fit and makes everything makes sense and brings either repair or closure. it grabs ahold of every random theory tossed out by any random well-wisher, and tries to shove all of this mess into that box and pretend it fits even if it completely doesn’t.
it’s a fruitless effort on both sides, but that doesn’t stop either one from trying.
and so i sit… waiting between waves for them to gradually subside as i’ve been told that they will.
i grab for straws that seem like they offer a bit of temporary shelter… even as i know that the friendship will also be pulled away again, maybe not immediately, but as soon as he lures a new player to his game.
i annoy the hell out of those who care about me by doing so… and annoy those who probably don’t even care all that much but who are still listening to me.
i wonder when life will be normal again, or if it ever will.
i wonder what would have happened if back in october i’d made the other choice… and followed my first instinct to run at the first signs of deep drama in the life of the guy that was becoming my friend.
i remember back to that night… to my prayers for direction on how to deal with it… and i remember clearly the very distinct image that came… that of a child being held and a whisper that it’s just a thunderstorm… of the feeling like it may cause some minor damage, but it won’t cause devastation and it will pass….
and i remember assuming it applied to the drama at hand.
and the moment that a friend pointed out… that maybe it actually was meant to be a comfort in the unexpected trauma in mine that would be the eventual result of my decision made that night.
i still would not have traded my 6 months of happiness, knowing it would have saved me the more than 2 months and counting of despair… more than 1/3 of the whole time we were together. i still would have made the same decision that night.
even as i know that my heart is now paying the costs of that spell… i’d still have rather had my time to love and feel loved (whether or not it was faked) and have to endure the storms that followed than to have never gotten to have experienced it at all.
so that’s why i’m quiet. and that’s how i’m doing.
restless with scattered storms.
thank you for asking.
and i’m sorry for answering.