When people ask how I’m doing (and know what they are asking) I tell them “it’s getting easier” and it’s true. I remember how surreal, confusing and unbearable the first few days were. I remember the sleepless nights, mental fog, and constant ache of the first couple of weeks. I cry less now. I accomplish more. I am able to lose myself for an hour or two in a book or TV, and I can hold a conversation, more often than not, without getting distracted. I have risen in the morning, eaten meals, and gone to bed at night without him often enough that it’s not a struggle every time to do these without crying. I’m even starting to get used to the emotional cycles of grief and relative calm. I have come a long way.
What I haven’t made progress with yet is my hyper-awareness of his absence. No matter where I go or what I’m doing, I am constantly returning to the thought that the boy should be here or that if he was still here, we would be doing something different. This is especially true in the evenings when we would almost always be doing whatever we were doing together. I don’t have a problem with being alone normally. I have always been comfortable with solitude. I’m just not making the mental shift to this being my new normal. The change is too fundamental to ignore. I have been part of a ‘we’ for so long that I now see myself as ‘we’ with a part missing. I can’t even say ‘I’ in a sentence without stumbling.
I’m ok with this being hard. I never expected it to be easy and I would hate to think someone I have loved for so long could fade quickly from my world. I’m just trying to get a handle on where I am. I know there is a future out there where I am not sad most of the time. I hope I can find my way there without losing too much of him.
Two MHID conversations so far today and one more to look forward to if I can talk myself into going to our local Chinese place for take out. I won’t miss this part of the process when it’s done.