Grief Can Come Out Of No Where
And it can hit you like a ton of bricks
In the first couple months after my husband died, people kept telling me how strong I was. And honestly, I thought there was something wrong with me because after the first week, I hardly cried. I was almost enjoying my new freedom.
I had no one to take care of. I could read and write and journal to my heartβs content. I felt bad about enjoying it.
But I donβt think I was letting myself grieve properly.
Suddenly β just in the past couple days after I found out that my husbandβs father was in the hospital and not likely to live for more than a month or three β Iβm hit with this grief that leaves me useless.
Iβm lonely and I miss him and every time I think about it a new bout of tears starts up. Just like right now. I write with tears filling my eyes. But I donβt know what else to do.
I have been crying so much over the past few days and I feel like crawling into bed and never getting out again. I donβt want to go to work and put on the happy face and deal with customers. I donβt want to tell people that Iβm ok when they ask how I am because Iβm not.
I donβt want to write and I donβt want to play with my planners. I donβt want to leave the house. I donβt want to eat. I just want to smoke (Iβm trying to quit β or I was) and binge watch Greyβs Anatomy and eat chips and pretty much anything else that falls in my path. I could eat a dozen Timmieβs donuts right now and not blink an eye (except for when they fill with tears).
I want my old life back. Iβd give up the house and the lack of car payment and the potential to make it with my writing to have him back right now. Iβd give anything to have to make his lunch or breakfast. Iβd happily help him with bathroom duties. Iβd do anything to be able to care for him again.
I canβt even do my job properly right now because in order to be a good supervisor I have to give a shit β and I donβt. I donβt care if the staff stands around on their phones all night long. I donβt care if they do any cleaning jobs. I donβt even care if they set the tables properly or fill up the coolers. Because what does it matter when my husband is not here and Iβm all alone and I have no person in my life? What does it matter.
I know that this will pass and Iβll feel better and Iβll start caring again. I know. But I donβt care right now.
Because the thought of spending another night in that big king sized bed without him beside me makes me want to cry some more.
