And feeling worse about feeling good…
Yesterday morning, Jim drove me to the vet hospital to pick up Thunder’s ashes. They brought out a form for me to sign – because there’s always a form – and handed me a gift bag of sorts. Seriously. Thunder’s ashes were in a plastic bag, in a cloth bag, in a decorative tin – along with a condolence card and a cement cast of his paw print. I wasn’t expecting that last thing and seeing the print of his tiny paw got me choked up.
We went home and I put these things in a box along with some of his toys, his collar, and the paperwork from when I adopted him.
And then I went to bed for most of the day.
I’ve been doing that a lot more lately – the worst was last week after an impossible day at work. I logged off, let the dogs out, then went to bed. I got up a couple hours later to eat a bowl of cereal for dinner, then back to bed for the rest of the night.
Which is not good. Not by a long shot. But it’s seductive to sleep your cares away. To not have to think and dwell on…well, everything. Hello, pandemic? So I sleep and try not to dream.
When I’m awake, I’m feeling bad. And feeling bad about feeling bad. I recognize my life is still pretty great – shouldn’t that counter work stress and the loss of my cat? But when I run the emotional math, things don’t balance out. Even with all the great things, even with all the good luck I have, I’m still down and dazed. And sleeping too much.
But then I have a moment where things are okay. The dogs will pile on me and it’s impossible to be sad when they do that. Or Jim will bring me a cookie unbidden, just because. And there’s a smile again and some happiness.
And then I catch myself. Wait, why am I happy? I’m still depressed and overwhelmed – I can’t have it both ways.
But, as Jim has patiently reminded me, none of this is a straight line. There’s no sequence with grief. And though I was relieved I had jumped past the Denial and the Anger and went right on into Depression, it didn’t mean I was on a fast track to Acceptance.
So, I’m staying close to home and trying to keep my tasks and my thoughts small. Back to work again tomorrow, but for now there are cups of tea and a box of memories.
I have a warm and safe home. My job is a little miserable right now, but I don’t have to battle traffic or worry that it will just go away. I have plenty to eat and fast internet – and people that love me. (I should have ranked “people that love me” ahead of “fast internet”, but, well…)
I’ll get through this. And I’ll have better days – with more daylight – as time goes on. And I’m lucky for what I have, even when faced with a loss.
So, it’s time to settle down again and sit quietly. And acknowledge that it’s okay to feel bad – and rest when I need to so that I can feel better.
When it’s time.