Some Days

 I've been writing more lately. I'm resistant to the idea of posting to my blog. I think taking the time to edit, rework amidst anger, grief, sadness with the coming election, the covid 19 virus sound tiring.

 This landscape feels like I'm standing in the middle of a dried out swamp, standing in bent gray blonde grasses All around me is the end of the swamp margining into forest, into horizon. Every vista looks the same. I don't know which way to go. I feel a mixture of fear and doubt. 

I used to enjoy "the blue zone" the not thinking which encourages calm. Some days, I can again, spend a bit of time with an empty mind; running or riding my bike. The thought of having nothing to do/ no work/ no projects or chores still fills me with dread. Too much time to think.

In the midst of a run, the bike ride; the pieces of my grief sometimes come back, fill the empty. I don't know why. A signal, a trigger, a feeling? The big threads lately are Is Andrew really happy?  I'm grieving for what he's missing by having passed. Falling in love, marriage, children. Having adventures. I'm angry, too, that was taken away from him and honestly, from me sharing that time with him. 

I circle through wondering if there is reincarnation. But I want to see him in heaven...which is so selfish. Yes, these are the ugly parts of loss. I miss him. Those words don't show, don't encapsulate the enormity of this emptiness, once triggered, once opened. 

The other thread is me. Some days I'm sick of being sad. I want to throw it off like a cloak. I'm angry at sad. I'm angry my life is so unfair. I'm in self pity, irrational, why me victim mode. Its hard to even admit I'm there some days. I don't know how to go on. I know I'll be sad in some part of me, forever. 

Some other days, I want to move the sad room to another location.  I don't want to forget Andrew. I get afraid I will. because I'm a horrible, selfish person. Even writing this out I see how irrational it is. I won't forget Andrew...its not even possible. I love him and I know he loves me. Because love doesn't die. His life is one of the best things that ever happened to me. I know he wants me to live more and let go of some of this sadness. Because he was such a good person underneath the addiction. The circle is irrational, frustrating and I find, more painful when I'm tired.

On a side note, my briefcase strap fell off last night. I carry so much back and forth between work and home. I carry so much...What I'm doing isn't working but I don't know what to do. Too much weight is a metaphor...it doesn't really work. 

The emotion of sadness is like a big, heavy ball. I don't know how to hold it anymore. Pain and grief and tears..all a ball. I want to hold it, I want to let go...Andrew, his love is in my heart.  I'm so glad to have that. And yet, saying that here, my thoughts swing to how unfair it is that he has passed. For him! So unfair! I'm so angry! He was so young. He didn't have a chance to live. I'm angry again in an ugly circle of sad to angry to sad.

I'm realizing as I write this, I'm searching for the perfect how.  The how I'm supposed to go on. How the future should look like as if there is a fixed solution or place. We all are in the midst of this pandemic, civil unrest. Some days, those of us with extra burdens, want the holy how, more.