My give-a-damn's busted.

I'm finding it hard to care about anyone but myself. Keep in mind, though, that my professional and personal lives are very separate. I have no problem doing my job and doing it well. In my personally life, however, I find myself whispering in my head several times per day "I don't care...". I don't care about Obamacare. I am not wasting my time and precious energy on thinking about how much its going to screw me in the long run. I don't care about what's going on in the world. I barely have the energy or motivation to deal with my own screwed up world. I'm not about to dedicate my time to trying to pretend I have the answers to all of the world's problems. I don't care that my favorite scratch off lottery ticket is $5 and I play it like twice a week. I don't care how bad you think your life is. Right now, I'm the wrong person to pick if you want to bitch and moan about your life. Had a bad day at work? Me too. Had a crappy supper? Me too. Husband being an asshole and won't clean up after himself? Me t....oh wait. You don't know this level of lonely, nor would I wish it upon anyone. This isn't a divorce. This isn't an affair. I had no control or input in this decision. I didn't have a say-so in what happened. This isn't a consequence of poor decision making. This isn't a 'lesson learned' moment. I didn't do anything. I don't care that I'm angry, and I especially don't care that you are uncomfortable with it. I'm going to be angry as long as I want to be. That might mean 3 days, 3 weeks, or 3 minutes. Suck it up.

I need a massage.

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Still grieving...

I've slacked on blogging lately, but I don't feel bad about it. There's not a lot to say. I can update the same boring post about being frustrated or reiterate that many of the cliches associated with grief are inaccurate. I could, but I chose not to. Instead, I've been focusing on getting back in to the swing of things. I feel that I've established I pretty decent routine. Things are more quiet in my life now. The chaos has settled, and the whispers of horrible rumors have faded (but are still there...). I'm learning more about myself, and I'm using lessons I learned with Steven to carry on my life. I'm not 'moving on', but there is a sense of normalcy about me now. As reality sets in, I accept it little bits at a time. Something I've struggled with is the idea of happiness. I felt a lot of guilt when I tried to be happy. That indicates to me that I wasn't as far along with grief as I had hoped. I'm starting to feel ok with being happy. I'm starting to feel more comfortable with my life and all the horrible pieces in it. I guarantee I will still have 'lost' days where I will revert right back to the negative feelings, but I see that those days are fewer now. I don't feel so much like a tornado. Its more like a bad storm that isn't causing any significant damage. Storms are fascinating. So much potential for destruction, but who can ignore the beauty of the lightning and the calming sounds of the rain? That's why grief is like a storm.

Widow

Today I feel like a widow. Usually, when asked to identify myself, I respond with my name or perhaps my job title. Not today. I'm a widow. Maybe is the Monday morning slump. Maybe its the fact that I'm starting a fresh new week without my husband here. Another cliche I get tired of hearing is, "Don't let this define you." How does that make sense? There has been a huge change in my life, and no one asked me if it was ok first. How does this not define me? Losing Steven has changed so much about who I am. Trust me, I really wish this was not what was defining me. Its not like I tried and failed at something. I didn't go out of my way to make a significant change only to find that it didn't turn out well. I had no control over this. To say, "Don't let this define you," is very inaccurate. It implies that I should ignore or fix what ever went wrong so I can move on. There is no moving on (another cliche that frustrates me). Moving on implies that this event should stay in the past as I move forward. If I move forward without this, who am I? This is such a part of me now that it is impossible to make even a little decision or have a small thought without it being there. It stays with me and makes decisions with me. Its here in everything that I do. Its stuck here. No one asked me if Steven could leave. No one asked me if this is what I wanted to handle the rest of my life. No one asked me if I thought I was strong enough to take on this tragedy. With so many people who are screwed up in the world, why Steven? I had no say in what happened to me, but here I am picking up all these pieces that don't even make sense. I feel like I'm living someone else's life and trying to fix someone else's problems. This is so unfamiliar to me that it doesn't even feel like me anymore. I make good decisions. Good things happen to people who make good decisions. With a life that was so happy, fulfilling, and loving, why on earth would I think that this would come of it? What is the point in making good decisions when shit like this comes out of it? Steven and I made a life that seemed fool proof. We had our shit together and never wanted for a single thing. And this is what happens? What is the point in trying so hard in life? I wish I knew.

Mmmm...Fall!

As I sit in the coffee shop eating my lunch, I'm remembering Steven's first coffee shop experience. It was a very crisp fall evening, and I was just getting over a nasty cold. Instead of going out for a night on the town, I wanted to go get some hot chocolate. He looked at me a little puzzled, but I assured him that this coffee shop was really laid back and not weird. We went in. He looked at me like I had brought him to a gay bar. I ordered a hot chocolate, and the barista asked what he would like to drink. He replied, "Uh...coffee?" She asked what blend he would like. He said, "Uh...Folgers?" A legitimate question for a redneck in a coffee house.

I'm frustrated today. I'm sick of waiting around for my life to get 'back to normal'. I have all these dreams about me doing normal things that I enjoyed. In these dreams, I have my old feelings back, I have a different happiness, and I have no worries or frustrations or anger. I feel as if I'm being held back from having these things in my awake life. I don't know why or what purpose this serves to make me a better person. I don't feel better or relieved of any woes when I have these dreams. I have dreams that Steven is coming back. Its nice to think about him in my dreams, but I often wake disappointed unless I actually get to see him in that dream. Usually, he feels very removed but there is a hope and ofen an effort on my part to get him to come back (I text him, call him, or drive to where ever he is in that dream). I try with every minute of every day to do things that make me happy and that restore a sense of normalcy back in my life. I don't feel like I've been able to achieve that yet. Clearly, I'm impatient. I know that these things don't happen quickly or in 'my time.' I can't be convinced that I'm supposed to be suffering, and I still can't figure out why this is the way my life is supposed to be when I worked so hard to make things happy and balanced.