A day without tears

Yesterday was the first 24 hour period that didn’t bring multiple fits of crying. I did tear up when talking with a friend, but I didn’t cry.

I suppose it’s a step, as was sending out the invitations to a small birthday party for my husband in 10 days.

I remember from my grandmother’s death that life HAS to move on, that we gain nothing from sitting in tears and despair for weeks on end. That doesn’t stop part of me from wanting to feel guilty-that I’m not grieving enough.

On the flip side, I take no pleasure in the fact that it took me five hours to eat breakfast and shower. I’m still moving slowly, as if through molasses. There’s a part of me that is growing impatient with that. I’ve always been the doer, and while my apartment is starting to resemble an apartment again, rather than chaos, I dislike the general malaise that I’ve fallen into.

Last year I called September my “lost month” to my friends. I was suffering from physical deterioration due to a herniated disc in my low back, and on September 8th was hospitalized for a week. I left the hospital using a walker, and on so many medications that I easily spent up to 17+ hours a day asleep from their combined side effects. Due to insurance bull shit, I couldn’t recieve the surgery at the hospital I was taken to by the ambulance, and had to wait until mid October for the surgery. I don’t remember much of anything beyond falling asleep to Gilmore Girls on the small tv in our guest bedroom, where I took up residence upon realizing that our bed was too hard, and that my sleep schedule was just too erratic, and forcing down a handful of cheerios so I could take my meds and drift back to sleep. I listened to books on tape because I couldn’t force my mind to focus enough to actually read and process the words at the same time. It was, in short, a pretty crappy month.

This year September was a lost month, too. I spent all of it in fear of losing my baby, in pain from the cramping, paralyzed by worry that doing anything would cause me to lose the baby. In the end, doing nothing helped me not one bit. I played endless games of pyramids on yahoo games, had the television on to HBO and then ignored the insipid teen movies that played out over and over again. I interviewed for jobs, trying really hard for the half hour or so that I was there, and immediately stopped caring if I got the job or not the second I walked out the door. Ironically, when I finally was offered a job a few days ago, I ended up turning it down.

I don’t want this October to be another lost month.

I suppose the first step will be leaving my house, but in order to do that, I need to be in a state where I can leave the house before rush hour would just trap me on the highway. Sitting in traffic would be too apt a metaphor for my life right now, and I’d rather avoid living out that particular experience.

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