I had the oddest experience just now. Being full of a cold, I accidentally dozed off on the sofa for perhaps thirty minutes. I woke up with no idea of where I was, all I felt was that I was missing something. Something very important. I sat up, looking around and truly couldn't figure anything out.
Then I found myself wanting to reach out to someone, and I could not make any connections as to who that would be. I was frozen in that moment and watched myself being alone.
Now, sitting here, looking at the cat, I realized enough is enough. I am too young to be at the "giving up point" in my life, and what's more I don't want that. In fact that was my first clear thought - I'm too young for this.
It is so challenging, because the more I do, takes me further away from what I came here for. My old life however is all over, and nothing I can do will bring it back. Part of me fights to remain in my grief, as that is all I have left from my previous ten years. Could all of that love be worth this emptiness? Is that what love equals to? A waking feeling of nothing?
A friend today explained how I could have been positive about my trip to AZ being cancelled. I could have made other plans. Gone somewhere else. My point was, that AZ was about being sociable, especially over a weekend where I didn't want to be alone. I believe I can do alone, really well. It's the opposite that I struggle with. That is why it stung. It was an attempt to move out of my comfort zone, when I can hide inside at the drop of a calendar.
Last week I ended up at a emergency dental appointment equaling in $5,000 worth of treatment if I say yes (which I'm not). Then the next day I had a fire in my living room, which could have been terrible. Thankfully it was not and now I can say I have used a fire extinguisher. The next day my AZ flight was cancelled and then the next day I got a cold and something really odd growing in my eye!!
Again all reasons for me to say "I'm not playing anymore!"
So I publicly forgive myself for having a cry and a moan. All of those things had me missing my old life and reminded me of my fear of rejection. Well, let me stand up with a million others and agree we all have that in common. It's what I describe as being on board The Circle Line. If you miss your stop at pain, rejection, abandonment, or whatever is your weakest muscle, stay aboard and you will soon re-visit the station.
By the way, for those that are working through loss, I recommend a wonderful non fiction book called "Second Firsts" by Christina Rasmussen. She names it "the loop of loss."
And now? Time to grow. Time to move further on and peer a little more ahead at new paintings, hear new music and taste new foods. I want to pay attention to those that care and quickly recognize those that pretend to. To celebrate and embrace the conversations that inspire me (thanks to my Vicks vapor rub & Netflix partner, you know who you are). To truly listen to what peoples silence is telling me and what their words are showing me. To dig deeper and to see what my brave heart is teaching me. As I said at the beginning, I cannot accept that all my love for David is now a battered rug on the floor. I can't wake up again and see nothing. I deserve more and I want more.
Thank you for reading.