- A nasty break-up
- A broken AC
- Grad school
I have had to get up awfully early the last couple of weeks, because we have had many visits from the contracting company that was doing the installation of our new AC and furnace (the AC was out for about 2 weeks right in the hottest time of the year). They would arrive about 7-7:30 each day, so we had to be up, dressed, and ready when they arrived . No more sleeping until 8:00. That was fine with me, though, because I kept thinking, "Okay, today they will have all the parts." Finally on Tuesday at lunchtime, they finished the job and turned on the new AC. It feels wonderful in here now. I'm sure the heat contributed greatly to throwing me off my routine, though I put a portable AC unit in my bedroom so that the bulldogs and I wouldn't have heat stroke, but it only kept a very small portion of the house cool. If you've ever used one, you know what I mean.
Grad school - and I'm only in week 2 - is proving to be very challenging. One mistake for a few of us in the class earned us a stern email and an extra assignment from the professor. Being a perfectionist, I've been beating myself up for two days because I misunderstood his instruction in last week's seminar. Oh well. Move on and do better next time, right?
The big thing keeping me from sleeping is - still - the aftermath of this break-up. I am still swinging back and forth between missing being in a relationship and being incredibly glad to be out of there. I've tried to narrow it down and pinpoint exactly what is bothering me so much about it all, other than the obvious grief over yet another loss. I think I finally decided what it is.
When, exactly, did she stop loving me?
I mean, I felt it. I felt things dying between us, but I still don't know why they did. When did it start to happen?
And then I realized what the real question was.
When did I stop loving myself? When did I stop caring how I was treated? When did I give up and think that I didn't deserve better in a relationship?
That's the real question. I will never really have an answer, of course. Like most things in life, it's ephemeral. Nothing is permanent. Everything is ever changing. I do think a big part of it started when Stephanie died. I can trace so much trauma, damage, and disaster back to that moment at noon on April 3, 2009 when I was told my daughter was "deceased," that she was gone. In a way, time stopped for me then. In a way, it sped up. Things began to happen around me and to me, and I seemed to have very little interest in doing anything about it.
Now that I am taking some time for myself, I see - I stopped loving myself. I could not forgive myself for all the ways - real or imagined - that I failed her. And there will never be a way for me to make it up to her. She is simply gone.
I know she loved me, though. And I loved her. It's time for me to learn to love myself again.
Peace - D