Me, Myself and I,
I still can’t quite believe that it has already been a year of living in this nightmare. (That is sadly a phrase that I have said many times lately, but honestly I do not know how else to explain it.) That realization isn’t Earth shattering, but it has brought some things that I have noticed on the periphery of my thoughts to the forefront. For example, even on the quietest and calmest days I still do not have or find peace. On days like that (and Saturday happened to be one of those days) I find that I have a tendency to show very little emotion to anyone but my family, which is usually just my son, and even then the emotions that I do show are subdued.
Even on those quiet and calm days, when some how I am able to enjoy something, like my knitting, my movies or letter writing that enjoyment is very short-lived because something either happens or something pops into my head with no warning. This always happens, without fail. There is nothing I can do about it, but somehow get through the moment, then the next and the moment after that and then somehow get to the end of the day and eventually go to sleep. None of which is easy. If it was I guess I wouldn’t need to write this blog to help process everything.
I was having a conversation with a fellow member of my online support group a few days ago and they said something about the world moving on without them and I couldn’t help but respond the following: “It has. I may still be in the world, but I’m not really a part of it. My son and I are really the only ones being affected by what’s going on and since he is too young to understand it has been easier for him to adjust. The world around me has, in fact, continued on as if nothing ever happened.” The person I was talking to was kind enough to say that they were sorry that we were both going through something so difficult and painful and I responded by saying “I appreciate the sentiment and the feeling behind it, but it’s not your fault and there is nothing that you or anyone else can do to change it. There is no point in even trying. It is what it is and right now all I can do is continue to struggle putting one foot in front of the other and hope that someday I might start to feel ok and then someday after that maybe actually feel good. Until then ok is the best that I can hope for or expect.” Some of my friends and family, my sister in particular, tell me that they think I am being negative when I say things like that. I don’t know if they are right or not. What I do know is that I don’t mean to be. I’m just trying to be honest with myself and everyone around me about what and how I am feeling. Something, which surprisingly enough, is difficult for me to do.
I have never done well with silence. Silence makes me anxious and nervous. I have an easier time falling asleep with the TV on than I do when it is quiet, even when I am exhausted. With all of these subconscious realizations becoming fully conscious ones I am surprised by just how non-stop my brain really is, ESPECIALLY when it is quiet. I don’t know if that means anything, but I guess in my case, and especially now, silence is not golden.