Warning: This post may contain unbridled, uncensored emotion. It may be a trigger for some readers.
WTF am I supposed to do now? Really?
My doctor (as wonderful as he is) says I’m not to disassociate. To try to feel the feelings. Go through them. Fucking move through them.
I don’t FUCKING WANT TO.
It hurts. It twists me up inside. I want to curl up into a little ball and hide away until the world doesn’t exist anymore.
My life doesn’t make sense without him. As soon as I think about how he’s NOT FUCKING THERE, nothing makes sense anymore. How the FUCK am I supposed to deal with that?
I drink. It doesn’t work anymore. It did for a while, but now I just get weepier. Ok, stopping the drinking.
I eat. It never works. I just felt like utter crap when the binge was over.
Gratuitous sex with random people? Yeah – not going to happen. There’s *one* person I’d like to connect with – but I think I want that person more for their presence than anything. I want to snuggle and just be close to them and I don’t know that’s something they have it in them to provide.
So how the FUCK am I supposed to cope with the feelings of utter loss, of devastation, of NOTHING WILL EVER BE RIGHT AGAIN when he’s not here. I can’t share my life with him. I can’t plan a future with him. And my son is singing songs about love and loss and I get that he processes his grief through music but I don’t – and it’s pretty fucking triggering. But I’m his mom and I’m not going to tell him to stop. He needs to go through it.
I just don’t get why. I feel broken. I feel shattered. I just want to pull my family close and hold them tight – all of them. I want to scream and break things. I want to scratch and bite and kick and punch. I want to throw things at windows and walls.
But I don’t want to clean up the mess of what that would entail.
So I write.
The nights are the worst. Sorry Lisa – that’s when I can’t hold it together anymore and I write 😦 There’s good times during the day – but the nights just remind me of how alone I am.