The longer I put off writing an update, the more things change in my life that I need to write about. It looks like my last post was in September of 2019, and here we are in November of 2022. I’m not even sure it’s worth rehashing the last 3 years.
This is the first time that I have not taken November 15 off work in 6 years. The anticipation of today is usually worse than the day itself, but each year the day has been different so I never know what to expect. It is barely 10 o’clock in the morning and I am regretting getting out of bed. I want to say that a lot of the intense emotions that I am experiencing right now can be chalked up to hormones, but that seems a bit dismissive. Perhaps the hormones are heightening the emotions, but they certainly aren’t the source.
There is a strong desire to log off work, cancel my dentist appointment, tell Matt he’s on his own with the boys for the night, and just retreat into bed until tomorrow. I’m not sure how productive that would be. I don’t know that gutting out my day as scheduled is ideal either, but I guess we’ll see. I think this is the first year in the six years since Mark died that I am also completely unmedicated. And given the current circumstances, all other substances I prefer for feelings management are also off the table. I think I’ve done pretty well in recent months, off meds, and experiencing for the first time in a long time what I’m considering the full spectrum of human emotion.
For the most part, that has been a positive experience. But today feels like the first time I’m being tested. I’m short-tempered and on the brink of tears at any moment. I haven’t felt this intensely in a while, and I don’t know quite how to manage it. It isn’t just grief either. I think there’s conflict around where my life has taken me to, and I won’t go so far as to call it guilt but…it’s something akin. This is the first Fall season that I haven’t dreaded. That I’ve felt present and experienced joy. And it feels good. Fall has always been my favorite time of year and for a long time I thought that was ruined. I am grateful to have some of that back.
I’ve told a few different friends going through tough stuff lately that “feelings aren’t facts.” And I think that is what I am going to have to center myself around today if I don’t want to get pulled under the waves. I think keeping things simple is also a safe bet. I have minimal work meetings, and no personal commitments outside of a dentist appointment. There is plenty of flexibility to take a few minutes to breathe, cry, lie down, make tea, whatever I think will help move me through the present moment. The weather has conspired against me for getting a walk outside in, but that could be for the best.
I am certainly not an expert in grief or loss. And I have not and will never look for the silver lining in Mark’s death. What I have come to learn in recent months is that I no longer want to spend my life waiting for the other shoe to drop. For the Universe to swoop in and ruin what I have now. I spent a few years in NC keeping a full life at arms length. I resisted relationships that required me to be emotionally available. I kept myself physically and mentally distracted almost 24/7/365 between 2 jobs, ultra training, and unhealthy relationships. I don’t think I need to apologize to myself for the choices I made in the interest of my own survival. I am certainly not denying that the worst can and does happen, but it is no longer an excuse to not be present or give all of myself to my life moving forward. How fair would it be to Matt, the boys, and this little nugget if I didn’t fully show up for them every day because I was worried that one of us would die? How fair would it be to me? I spent many months leading up to our wedding praying we’d both make it the wedding day alive. That is no way to live. Just because the worst does happen doesn’t guarantee that it will.
I’m not going to fight the tears today. I’m not going to work, walk, eat, drink, smoke, or sleep away how I’m feeling. I am going to be kind and patient to myself and pray that others are kind and patient with me as well. I’ll never stop missing him. I’ll never stop loving him. But I can’t keep my finger on the pause button. He is loved. I am loved. And I will wake up each morning, choosing love over everything else.