I had some more good days recently, in the sense of being productive and active, and then spent several days curled up on the couch. Sometimes I wonder if I am really improving or the cycles are just moving slower.
Movies are still a problem. I went to see one last night with a friend. I made it most of the way through this time before I started to lose it but barely managed to keep it together on the way out and had a cry in the car before heading home. And cried some more on the way home. Then cried some more at home – the bad kind, that feels like throwing up. Going with a friend is a little better than going alone but not by much.
In some ways I am OK with being on my own but the the loss still feels enormous and ever-present. There’s a part of my brain that always knows he should be there, even when I’m not consciously thinking of him.
I made a slide show as part of a grief group exercise of sharing our lost love one with the others. It is shorter than the one friends made for the send off but the photo choices are more personal. The exercise was both helpful and painful. It brought back happy memories and it felt good to be able to tell people about the boy, but reliving the memories freshened up the pain. I play it once or twice most days. It makes me cry every time, but there’s an emotional draw to those memories. It’s as close as I can get to him now.
My grief group wrapped up last week and I finally signed on with an individual counsellor. I’ve had two sessions so far. I’m not sure if it’s helping but it gives me someone I can talk to honestly, which is important since I can’t seem to do this with my family and friends.
I feel like my progress has plateaued. I’m not moving backward but if I’m still improving, it’s not obvious. The only change I see is that I am pushing myself to get things done more.
I can’t picture what the next stage looks like. Happiness seems like a distant dream. It’s hard to picture a future with joy and purpose, in a life that doesn’t include the boy.