I tried changing my diet, getting more exercise (well, as much as I could considering I felt perpetually exhausted) and even tried to write about how I felt, in an attempt to discover what was at the root of it all. I couldn't understand why I felt so depressed - it was as if the world was closing in on me.
I had a day to myself yesterday and decided to pamper me, planning a luxurious bubble bath and an afternoon lying around reading my favourite book. However, the black cloud hanging over me began to overwhelm me and I found it difficult to motivate myself. The idea of running a bath seemed to fall into the 'too hard' category.
Instead I rang Kaye, my cousin as a delaying tactic. We chatted for a while and during the course of the conversation I mentioned how I had been feeling these past weeks. She asked if I thought there was anything relative that may have happened and I said I didn't think so. Since Butch's passing, my body has remembered various anniversaries, like the day Butch told me he didn't want to live any more, which resulted in a severe acid reaction throughout my body on the first anniversary of that date.
After we'd finished, I forced myself to run a bath, and to tell you the truth, my heart really wasn't in it. Within ten minutes I had to jump out of the bath to purge everything I had eaten that day. I felt extremely weak and a little shaken, so I got into bed, snuggling under the covers . Before I dozed off, I sent Kaye a text 'Well, that didn't go so well, got in the bath & 10 mins later was puking my heart out...wonder what that means? Do you think I'm allergic to large bodies of water? LOL' She suggested I may have an aversion to nurturing myself...ouch! when people shoot you with truths, they hurt!
Later I talked to my daughter about how I was feeling, adding that perhaps I needed a bitch slap or for someone to shake me out of whatever it was that made me feel 'stuck'.
She told me I was far from stuck, I was doing a course, writing, creating websites, blogging, etc, etc and I should be proud of how I was moving forward.
As I dragged myself to bed that night, I mused over what Kaye had said. I got out my old diary and checked against the dates I had started feeling out of sorts. Surprisingly...or not.... it coincided with the date Butch's oncologist had given him his death sentence. Out of curiosity, I decided to check the current date. I had an a-ha! moment as I read about Butch having a 'turn' at home. I remembered how terrified and sick to my stomach I had felt, so helpless and worried. I wrote how I was too scared to go to sleep in case he passed away I closed my eyes.
Hmmm, my body and soul still remembers.....
I never appreciated the depth and complexity of grief and on how many levels you can grieve. It's not just my emotions, soul and thoughts that need to heal, but also my body at a cellular memory level.
By the way, being aware of what the last two weeks were all about didn't result in an instant cure, but I was a little kinder to me today....
Love & support