Monday, November 16, 2015

Hanging onto Hope

I'm finally on a regular (& normal) sleep schedule. It's taken over a year but has finally happened. I'm also finally dreaming again, they've ranged from weird crazy dreams reflecting current and past events in my life to reliving that final day with Tim. Over and over and over again. Most nights I've woken myself up with a loud scream and shooting up in bed drenched in sweat. The strange thing is typically after that happens I fall right back asleep and am peacefully out for the remainder of the night. It's a little creepy but at the same time I'm just so relieved to be able to see Tim's face and hear his voice again that I don't mind it as much as much as I should.

I took time away from going to my therapist for awhile just because I didn't feel like facing the enormity of how much this all still effects me day after day. That was not the smartest move I've made. I've struggled a lot recently and its come as a shock as I guess I thought the year anniversary of Tims death would be some sort of switch indicating that the worst was over and I had crossed the finish line of grief. It's actually been worse since then. It seems the only switch that flipped was the one in which the fantasy world in my head where Tim was surely going to come walking through the door sometime and I could just save up all of the things I've noted and been wanting to tell him for that moment ended. Reality has finally hit me that he truly is never coming back. It's something that you rationally know but can't seem to wrap your head around so you just stay in a constant state of denial that he's just on a trip or just out of touch. Reality really sucks when it hits.

I finally did head back to see my therapist last Friday and she helped me to kind of understand that I've finally gotten through the denial stage and am now "at the bottom of the pendulum". At least when you finally hit bottom there is nowhere to go but up right? She also told me that apparently I'm one of the more severe cases of grief she's seen. I'm torn between that being a badge of honor for how much Tim and I loved each other or adding it to the list of the curve balls life seems to keep tossing my way when I could really use a nice easy pitch. 

I struggle with having to frequently remind myself that Tim didn't choose to abandon me but it's hard to keep that perspective. I keep feeling like he's out there living his life with someone else and have to remind myself that he didn't leave me. It's so strange but I guess I just want to have a reason to be mad at him for not being here anymore instead of being mad at him for not being here and immediately feeling guilty because I know he would be if he could.

I'm torn over my house, it's started to feel like home (except for the mice that moved into the attic above my bed) but is also a solid constant reminder of everything that the last year has been. Right now that's a bad thing, I'm hoping that as I work my way through all of this that it becomes more of a symbol of how these events have molded me into a different person. I replaced all of Tim and My bedding a month or so ago and now my bed finally feels like it's mine versus being a constant reminder of us. I'm working on that balance now, figuring out what to replace to start a new life with fewer constant reminders that just reopen all of the wounds and what to keep as sweet memories of what once was. I guess it's representative of me trying to figure out who I am now. Considering how hard both of us are on things I've been having to replace a lot of items as they break. A set of sheets we got for our wedding ripped into shreds as I leaned up to watch TV one night leading to the idea of just replacing everything.

Over the past year I've lost interest in things I once loved, I've gained respect for things I once despised (I.e. Tims music and fantasy football) & I don't recognize the girl I see in photos from "before". My memories no longer feel as though they were my own experiences but more of a movie I watched, just surreal. I don't know what I want out of life any longer and I don't have a clue as to who I am but I've finally started to get a little clarity. Where I once thought I was done with supporting cancer fundraising, it's becoming more of a passion but in a different manner than before, one in which I'm more actively involved. I'm reaching out slowly to find out where else I want to volunteer and what matters to me. I've found that giving pieces of myself helps to make me feel whole again.

Mostly these days I'm in a constant state of exhaustion no matter how much sleep I get. Tired of fighting for every step I take forward, tired of being ok, tired of feeling lost and alone, of no longer having the connection with anyone that I did with Tim and tired of figuring it all out alone. Irregardless I have a support system that most could only dream of and through them I find the strength to drag myself out of bed every morning, to keep putting one foot in front of the other no matter how much I don't want to and to keep trying to get back to the person that Tim fell in love with, a little more hardened and banged up but also with greater understanding of just how precious each day is.
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