Another day, another mix of semi functional busy-ness, and total inactivity. Bless all my friends who keep telling me I don't need to do anything, I wish that were true. Unfortunately I can't spend the rest of the year in total inactivity, plopped on the couch, ignoring any responsibility. I'd like to, but eventually I'll have to do something.
I'm finding that my moods are fluctuating wildly... For a few moments I am wildly optimistic: I'm going to survive this! I'm going to go forward and do the things that we always dreamed of! I am going to write that book he told me we needed to write... I am going to follow through on things, be confident, be focused, grounded, centered... I am going to be the woman he always knew I could be!
Then I look at at a photo, or open a new card, and all the optimism vanishes in a puff of grief. I can't do it. I can't go on. If I don't have my husband to share these things with what's the point in doing them at all? If he's not physically here to give me feedback, to encourage me or join me in my activities, why even bother?
There has to be a balance in there somewhere. I'm not ready to find it yet, but maybe the idea that I'm even considering there might be something else for me to do in life is a good thing, even if that hope only lasts for a few seconds at a time.
I will let the grief continue on it's own terms, for now.
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