One step forward, two steps back

Just when I thought I was making good progress, the universe decided it wasn’t quite my time yet. 

This has been a difficult week. Actually, just a difficult couple of days. I was feeling pretty good on Monday and on Tuesday I got some “normal life” activities accomplished. I was pretty proud of myself for finally doing some little things that I once was able to complete without a second thought. That’s what grief and loss do to you, though…they take even the most mundane task and make it akin to climbing a mountain with no equipment. 

Then Wednesday happened. Wednesday I woke up to find out that our country was in for some major changes. (This is not a place for anyone to spew their political opinions, by the way, so don’t bother.) The whole vibe from social media to in-person interactions was really affecting me. I tend to pick up on and sometime even absorb the emotions of others fairly easily. It’s extremely draining. I was filled with the despair and fear of many individuals. Seeing my friends afraid of what might happen with their same-sex marriage and adorable little babies, seeing my friends from other countries worried about being sent back home, it was all just too much for me. On top of that, Wednesday was also the two month mark following Joshua’s passing. For reasons unbeknownst to me, my subconscious knew that day was upon us before my conscious mind could catch up. All in all, it was a high level negative emotion day. I fell asleep on the couch around 8, I just couldn’t bear to feel anything anymore. 

Oh, but it doesn’t stop there. This morning I am putting things in my car for work when I notice there is some broken glass on the seat. That was odd, since the windows I could see were all intact. Upon further inspection, I found that the driver side rear door had been smashed in and my vehicle had been rummaged through. This, in and of itself, is enough to shake someone to their core. There was glass everywhere, they went through my center console…but they left the GPS (gee, thanks). I thought I was “lucky” to find that they didn’t take anything until quite a few hours later at work when I remembered another bag I had been carrying in the car. I completely forgot it was there and it never should have been. This bag contained a large sum of money, my husband’s “big” wallet (thankfully not holding his ID or any other everyday items) and some small items that had belonged to him. I am so angry that these people took things so precious to me. Of course, I wish they hadn’t taken the money as well…but the personal items are what matter the most. My heart breaks every time I think about the fact that they are likely sitting in a dumpster somewhere. 

I know there is no way for these individuals to know my current situation, but I can’t help but to feel like someone is out to get me anyway. Life has handed me so many lemons, I’m ready to run the world’s largest and longest lasting lemonade stand. 

I have powered through months of legal injustices, threatening phone calls and text messages, anger-fueled “conversations” with my husband, living in fear of the great unknown, and trying to make my husband’s life better. Then I powered through literally trying to save my husband’s life, coping with the loss, packing our entire life into boxes and moving away from the house we built together with so much love, and starting to put the pieces of myself back together. 

And now, I get sidelined yet again with an unnecessary, invasive and painful life event. 

I do wonder if the thieves somehow knew what was going on in my life, if they would have maybe thought twice. I like to think that they would…all humans have some level of compassion, right? But I’m very afraid that it would not have mattered one bit. 

So here I am again, wallowing in the pain of losing items completely lacking in monetary value but full of the sentimental kind. Another piece of my Joshua that I will never see again. And I know, in time, I will remember that I don’t need the physical things to know that he is close to me. But right now, I am filled with guilt and shame. Josh would be so mad at me if he were here to know what I let happen. I never should have left those things in my vehicle. But I made a mistake – one that I will likely make again, but hopefully without the same consequences. 

I will never be able to have his forgiveness for all of the ways in which I feel as though I had failed him. I guess I better work on finding some forgiveness of my own. 

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