Today has not been stellar.
I spent a good deal of yesterday being angry about so many things that I can't control. I cried a great deal of the day before that. Today was full of more tears and a lot of angst -- and sleep. I have been so incredibly tired. I yawned through the first half of my meeting with my therapist today and cried through the second half. Then I came home and promptly went to bed.
How am I at beginnings, Mark (Walking Man) asked. Not so good. I'm not ready for any beginnings yet, because I'm not done with the endings. I'll get there, of that I'm sure. But I'm not there yet.
I'm in the process of making some amends, but at the end of it, I'll be making some more. It's a vicious cycle.
I miss my daughter. I don't want her to be gone, but we do everything we can to keep her alive in our family. We talk about her, share memories, and muse on whether she might like a particular song or movie. She's very much alive here. But I still feel the loss of all that potential. As my therapist said today, "Her life was truncated."
I am also still mourning the loss of my relationship. Regardless of what happened, I'm mourning that. I can't just act like it never happened. That, for me, doesn't work. I can't go running from one relationship right into another one. I need some time. I need to feel more stable. I need to get my feet under me. It was, after all, supposed to be forever. It just didn't turn out that way. I wasn't prepared for a relationship then, and I'm not now. I'm broken. When my heart heals, it will look like a lamp some kid tried to glue back together. It will never work right again. I'll just have to learn to keep going with a gimpy heart.
I am not looking for any sympathy here. All I'm doing is getting it out, getting it out, getting out, like poison from a snake bite. I have to just keep going. The 3rd of every month since April 3, 2009 has been absolute hell. No one can fix that for me. I don't want anyone to. Every time it rolls around, I just have to deal.
I remember the first time it happened. June 3, 2009. Because I was still kind of in shock in May, I think it didn't hit me quite as hard. But June 3, I found myself lying on the floor of Denise's bathroom sobbing my eyes out. I had set myself up to visit a local church to give a testimony for Celebrate Recovery. It was stupid of me to plan that. I wasn't thinking right. I think it may have been that day on the floor of her bathroom that I realized I might be losing my religion, so to speak. I no longer trusted that God had my back. I began to feel cut adrift.
She scooped me up that day and every 3rd of every month after that. The 3rd was never just another day. No one can take that away from her. I'm eternally grateful for her support on those days. If things had been different, well...things would have been different. I don't want to ruin anyone else's life with my brokenness. I need some time to heal. It will be best if I do that.
Peace - D