Never Have I Ever…

Been drunk in my life. Never, ever, ever, ever. Yep, you heard it here first, folks!!! And I’m thinking that right about now would be a great time to add that ⬆️ to my to-done list ✅.

So technically, I don’t know what a hangover really feels like. But if I were to imagine it, I think it would feel a lot like I’ve felt this week. And many times before, after we’ve survived yet another dreaded date. All of us who have experienced the trauma of losing our person have those landmine-filled stretches of weeks, months, or seasons that bring it all rushing back.

The last two weeks have been one of those stretches for me. And I’m feeling it.

My body knew it before I was aware of it.

For me, it starts with the extreme fatigue. It’s hard to get out of bed. I forget to do things. I forget where I put the thing that I put in a super-safe place so I wouldn’t have to lose my mind looking for it. I misplace the list of priorities I made so I wouldn’t forget my priorities. My back starts hurting, my head, my whole body… Then slowly, all the feelings start rolling in, like the rain cloud that follows Charlie Brown around 🌧️.

I feel blue.

And when friends ask how I’m doing, I almost don’t want to say it anymore. It’s probably more in my head than anything, but I feel like if I say I’m sad, down in the dumps, struggling, they’re thinking, “Yes, we know. He died. We miss him. It’s hard. And it’s been almost three years…”

Then I give myself a pep talk.

You got this, girl! Let’s do something fun. Let’s watch something funny. But it all takes so much energy when you’re already operating at a deficit.

Then comes the panic.

June 17th. What are we going to do for his birthday? Celebrate? I don’t want to celebrate without him. That’s stupid. But we should celebrate, because we love him so much.

Father’s Day. Are we going to the cemetery for Father’s Day? Why don’t our kids talk about Dad or want to go to the cemetery? Why have I not gone to the cemetery? Something really wrong with us? Are they healing? Are they hurting? Yes, girl, you know this. You guys are carving your own grief path on this journey.

The Emotions.

Spoiler alert: Teen hormones + grief + perimenopause = atomic bomb. 🤷🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️💣

Yes, I make fun of it as a coping mechanism, but it really isn’t funny.

While my son grunts, stomps up the stairs, and slams his door because his AirPods case fell on the floor or his water spilled, my daughter is crying because the crêpe batter is lumpy, or because her brother is frustrated and the tension is rising. And I’m over here trying to keep everybody’s emotions at bay, trying to hold them and their grief, while waiting for the commercial break so I can cry and scream. And there is no one to hold me.This is still so unfair!!!

That happened yesterday morning. Then I looked at the clock.

10:10 a.m. IYKYK. “No, no,no!” I screamed at my phone.

I am still mad. I am so angry that you left me and I’m here left to handle this impossible semblance of a family on my own. You were supposed to be here for this. We were supposed to carry this together.

Cue the sobbing. And the lingering sense of hopelessness. Of being trapped in a cruel, unchanging reality.

In my heart, I know that what looks like a f@(!#ing unreasonable display of emotions from our kids is really an expression of their grief. So heavy, still.

Oh! And did I mention all of this happens while I’m nursing a twisted, inflamed, greenish-purplish-blackish foot, hobbling around on crutches 🩼 after a tiny crack in a sidewalk forced me to unexpectedly kiss the floor outside of a CVS? I wish it was a funner story. But we kept going, to a ropes course and pool, and out to eat, because thats what we do, right? Hurting and all. And all of it leaves me depleted and exhausted.

Geez! What a downer I am!

Then again… This is a widow blog ❤️‍🩹

This week has been a struggle, physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually. And if grief is teaching me anything, it’s that sometimes surviving a hard season feels less like healing and more like waking up with an emotional hangover… minus the lemon drop 🍋 martinis.🍸. Cheers!

Hasta la próxima! Until next weekPeace.