I Am the Queen of Sticky Notes

They're everywhere...

On the fridge.

Stuck to the kitchen cabinets.

On the computer.

No surface has been safe so from all my little reminders to breathe. To smile.

They remind me to remember that even though he's no longer be with me in this life, the feelings we shared will never fade. I will always carry him in my heart.

So I leave little reminders to have courage. To hang in there.

I wonder if they're doing me any good. A friend says that these must be working, or I wouldn't be making them. Maybe they are having a positive influence on me.

Whenever I think of something I need to keep repeating to myself I grab a notepad and write it down. Whenever I begin to feel like everything is hopeless and I can't see the light at the end of the tunnel I try to write myself an encouraging note. Whenever I want to focus on the sort of energy I want to bring into my life I write it down. I am capable. I am creative. I am confident.

Sometimes I just have to remind myself that I can be strong, even if I  have a lot of trouble believing it.

That's when the notes are most important.

I think I'll continue pasting them all over the house for a while.

At least until I run out of surfaces.

cross posted from Kything NaturesZen

Reflected

I caught sight of my reflection last night, in one of the photos of Jeff I keep on the desk. I was looking over his shoulder, and it was as if we had traded places. He is vibrant and alive, and I am the spirit, watching over him.  I felt like I should be able to reach out and touch his cheek, and run my fingers through his hair, and call him sweet, silly names. And then I stop to cry again.

I fell silent towards the end of February and couldn’t think of anything to blog about, even though I wanted to write. It seemed like there was nothing left to say.

I think as the initial shock that carried me along for the first three months began to wear off I just ran out of steam, and my brain finally shut down. I stumbled backwards a lot, I felt worse than ever and the house seemed to always be closing in on me. I kept telling myself that it was just the bad winter that was keeping me down. I wanted the weather to change, I wanted it to be warm and pretty, but it occurred to me that as spring arrived I would no longer have a good excuse for hiding in the house. Deep down I don’t think I’ve really wanted to see warm, bright days. I know I’ll have to start moving around again, doing chores, interacting with people, and dealing with all the day to day things on my own that we would tackle together. Sometimes, in those moments when I haven’t managed to totally distract myself with some pastime, I realize that eventually I’m going to have to accept that he’s really gone, it’s not just a dream.

Of course my solution to these sudden realizations is to run away from that reality, drink the chocolate milk of forgetfulness, and bury myself under cozy blankets of denial.

It really is all a bad dream, Melony. Really it is. Close your eyes, take a nap, when you wake up it will all be okay. And if it doesn’t work the first time just keep repeating, eventually you’re bound to wake up out of the nightmare. And have some more donuts in between naps. You’ll feel better.

I often find myself wondering how long this feeling persists. Does it go on forever? I sometimes feel like I’m the old fashioned, stereotypical reclusive widow: forever dressed in mourning, never leaving my house, sitting in a dark room with the curtains drawn, perpetually weeping…

Well, I do wear a lot of black, but I’m sure that’s just a coincidence.

Today it has been four and a half months. 136 days. And yet it still feels like a day or so. Sooner or later I will have to step forward into the sunshine and try to figure out what I’m going to do with the rest of my life.

Jeff is gazing at me from that photo. He knows I can do it. I know I can do it, deep down there's an optimist inside me, I'm sure of it. I've pasted sticky notes with motivational comments all over the house: You can do it! Be the confident, self assured person Jeff always knew you could be!

I'm not sure they've started to help yet, but I'm not giving up.

I can do it.

cross posted from Kything NaturesZen

Still

I begin to wonder how long it takes before it even starts to sink in that I have to readjust to a new way of life.

I still look at his photo and find it impossible to believe it isn't all a bad dream.

I still think, hope, wish, that I'll wake up and everything will be okay.

I still scream at the universe for taking him away from me. I scream at myself for not finding some way to prevent it. I scream at him for leaving me alone.

I wonder how long it takes before I begin to accept that this is reality.

*sigh*

In the meantime I should consider what to write on the main blog, and what direction I might want to take this one in. And I should consider what direction I want to take my life in. That's a toughie as well.

Ramblings from four and a half months along the way.