I’m exhausted. It’s been five weeks since losing my husband and my body is feeling the full effects of my grief. A very wise woman recently told me that if I keep ignoring these obnoxious things called emotions, the physical manifestations of them will not only not get better, they will very likely get worse. Super.
I’ve always had some sort of muscular discomfort somewhere in my body — curse of an anxious mind, I guess. And I have been “training” to “run” a 5K, so that’s not helping matters I’m sure, but I am hurting. Physically hurting. I have been having sharp, debilitating chest pain intermittently. It comes on seemingly out of nowhere and is so strong I nearly double over in pain and it’s hard to breathe. Hmm… that sounds familiar.
My reactions to this physical pain are nearly identical to my reaction to the devastation of learning that my husband, the love of my life, would not be coming home with me. Well, actually, my first reaction was to ask if they needed his insurance information. Totally unimportant in the moment and I’m almost embarrassed to admit it, but I immediately went into the comfortable area of my brain, the logic zone, and decided to ignore the emotional area. I also recommended that the hospital put trash cans in their private family rooms as I had no reasonable place to dispose of the vomit that I was certain was coming. It never did, but the hospital crew might not be as lucky with the next family that has to use that dreaded room – a trash can would really come in handy!
Anyway, it’s been five weeks and I’m terrified to find that the “shock” of the situation is just about gone. I’m starting to feel things again, and most of them are not positive feelings. I don’t like any of this. I don’t want to do this. I don’t know HOW to do this. I just know that I have to, there is no other option.
Guess I’ll just keep playing the “fake it ’til you make it” game and hopefully, some day, I will realize that I made it.