So I thought I needed medication. This is only because I was having such a difficult time regulating my emotions. I understand that this is normal for the circumstances, but it was driving me batty. One hour I'd be on top of the world and ready to take on anything life threw my way. The next hour, it would be a challenge to get up out of a chair. I just wanted to zone out and watch the world fly by without a single care. I was tired of going up and down and up and down all the time. And I wanted off of the Xanax. I tried Prozac this week. The lowest dose possible. I quit taking that today. Tired doesn't really describe the feeling, and neither does depressed. I was just blank since about Wednesday. I didn't feel like going to my house or talking to anyone or blogging or working. I was sitting in sessions with clients and had to make a huge effort to appear to be listening to them. Bad news.
Today I'm feeling much much better. I was productive at my house today. I sorted through all of the mail I had sitting in my kitchen, watered my flowers, cleaned up clutter (loose screws, misc ammo, pocket knives, pens, etc.), and decorated. I went to Menards and bought a few fall decorations to put on my front door and in my flower garden. I don't even care if Steven doesn't like them or thinks they are stupid. I also bought shutters for the house. My volunteer pumpkin is HUGE. Dad counted about 10 tiny little pumpkins growing on it. I'm so glad Steven didn't dig it up and kill it like he said he was going to do. Dad cleaned up some of my garage and put together my little porch table. I spray painted it hunter green to match the house. He also put up my smoke detectors that I bought Steven for his birthday back in January. Mitch and Shawn came over with their women. They put themselves to work cleaning out the cabin. No joke, they used a broom and everything!
I got in my Jeep to leave, and "When Will I Be Loved" came on the radio. I can't get that thought out of my mind. I can't be alone forever. I have no desire to love anyone else. I have no desire to date anyone else. However, I can't shake the feeling/desire to feel that love again. I almost feel guilty for feeling that way, but I know I shouldn't. I just don't understand how this is going to work. It scares me. Honestly, I don't think I'm scared of anything else really. I'm only scared by the fact that I now have no idea what the rest of my life is going to be like. I understand that a lot of people feel this way every day, but I did have it figured out. At least the important things. I knew who I'd be with, I knew where I was living, I knew our careers, and a rough plan to have children a few years down the road (again, I'm not pregnant like the rumors are still suggesting...). Now, I have no idea. This doesn't sit well with a control freak like me. This scares the shit out of me.
I had a dream the other night that Steven was in the Effingham Co Jail instead of being dead. When I learned this, I headed straight for the jail and ran in to an acquaintance. I asked if I could see Steven. He said, "Oh, he's not here. He's doing work release. He drives to Memphis everyday to look for work." (Work release, in real life, doesn't work like that...but hey, its a dream). I asked when he would be back, and this person indicated that Steven didn't really want to be found. Almost like he just wanted to fly under the radar and disappear instead of being with me.
In my group at work last Thursday, we processed a moral dilemma exercise involving a man who couldn't get enough money for the live saving remedy his wife so desperately needed. We discussed stealing the remedy, stealing money, whether he loved his wife or not (and if that mattered...), what kind of consequence he would suffer should he be caught stealing, and whether he would be responsible for his wife's death should he decide not to obtain the remedy illegally. This is an interesting dilemma to process while grieving. I was shocked to hear that many people in this group were not willing to spend more than about 3 weeks in jail if it meant their loved one would survive. Granted, this is a hypothetical situation, but it just got me thinking of all the things I would do or not do to have Steven here even for just a few more minutes. I'd do some crazy shit, but I know he's happy. He finds a way to tell me that every day.
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