For the last few days I've been wondering if I've got some dread disease, blood clots, or just suffer from unadulterated laziness. I get a small burst of energy then have to sleep for two days just to get back on my feet. I don't sit around crying (can you cry in your sleep) but I burst out in tears even when I'm feeling uplifted (as in church yesterday when I saw a man, who's just come home to take care of his mother who is the same age as my father, touch his mom on the shoulder and they smiled at each other. It was less than a nano second but I saw it and "felt" it like an electric shock. I was jealous and sad and broken open just like that. So of course I slept the day away. This morning I told myself if I had even one ache or pain I could describe to the doctor I'd call for an appointment. I kind of knew what he'd say but I wanted him to say it, not me.
The long and short of the visit is that I started crying when the nurse asked me why I was there. Then when the doc came in I told him all of it and he said I wasn't really describing depression because I do have some ups. I'm pretty sure his tests are going to rule out anything wrong with my body. I don't think they can tell if a heart is broken by an EKG. So in a couple of days I'll probably have to head back to my shrink. It's possible that my meds are out of whack, it's happened before. But I think I'm in the throes of another round of grief. Which is getting tiresome to say the least! I want it to be over. I want to move on.
I realized today after reading a blog about a friend baking cookies that reminded her of her mother, that I can barely remember my mother. But I remember after she died, the number of times I wanted her here to talk to, or laugh with or take care of. Now all I see and feel is the black hole of missing Dad. Hell, a lot of the time he was alive I didn't even like him, so why this is going on so long I can't figure.
Then I thought maybe it's not dad I'm still missing. He's just the face I can put on the hole. I think I've got empty nest syndrome - I'm lost as to what to do with myself. A nurse at the hospital where I had an x-ray asked me if work. I said no. So then she asks am I a homemaker or unemployed? I literally stood there with my mouth open. Does trying to make a new home from an old home make me a homemaker? The fact that I only cook a few times a week and can't remember the last time I dusted or put fresh flowers on the table does detract from my homemaking skills, but I still see myself as a woman who makes her home homey - sort of. But since I no longer have anyone to take care and that was my "job" I am technically unemployed. I didn't know which answer to give her. As if she really cared. I think all she had to do was put an x in a box.
I keep telling myself I just need to change my attitude. Why is that so much easier said than done? On my way to the doctor the traffic was backed up and stalled almost to a standstill. Of course, I huffed and puffed and got all bent out of shape. Then I heard that the bridge was closed because there was a man contemplating jumping off. Dang I hate it when that happens. I hate it that people can be so messed up they think diving off a bridge is the best answer. And I hate it that I can't just say to myself, "see there, Missy, other people have it a whole lot worse than you do so let's just have a little bit of an attitude adjustment."
Here's the thing, I KNOW that this is going to pass. I KNOW there is going to be an end to grieving and a beginning to something new and maybe even exciting in my life. I KNOW crying isn't the worst thing that can happen to me. And I KNOW that the only person telling me I'm lazy is the voice in my head that sounds not surprisingly a lot like my Dad. I just want it to be over with now. Like when you're having a baby and after hours of contractions the doctor tells you it's okay to start pushing and you know that means the baby is almost out and all the pain is going to be worth it but at the moment all you can feel is your whole body squeezed into a big tight ball. Okay so that is the non-Lamaze way of doing it, I know. But do you catch my drift?
My prayer for tonight is that the man who didn't jump is resting comfortably in a place where he feels safe and people who love him are sitting by his side holding his hand. I'm grateful, really grateful, I'm not that depressed.
Wishing for you a heart at peace,