How on earth did I get here? That's the question I find myself asking several times a day. In addition to the disturbing amount of time I now seem to talk to myself (there isn't anyone else here over 5 feet tall these days), is the reality of the question "How did I get here?" Sometimes it's a disbelief on where my life has taken me and sometimes it's that I truly can't remember how I got to the kitchen or why I'm there. Both are unnerving thoughts, the latter being highly unusual for my previously organized and multi-tasking brain.
That I am not myself is crystal clear to myself and everyone around me. The fact that I can't snap out of it makes me nervous. The grief I feel and the memories that come flooding in overwhelm me. The simple truth is: Sometimes the grief I feel is so enormous, there isn't room for anything else in my brain. How did I get to the kitchen? Who knows! I was engrossed in remembering a moment with my husband, trying to remember and feel and smell and somehow touch his memory. Another truth is: It's OK. This is where I am. This is what I'm going through.
I have learned to try to compartmentalize now and just focus on getting one simple task done at a time. Sometimes it takes a Herculean effort just to put on my shoes. I have to be ok with it. I have to let the old me go. I can't do things the way I always did, because everything has changed. My role has changed. Another role has vanished. My life experience has changed. I have changed.
That I am not myself is crystal clear to myself and everyone around me. The fact that I can't snap out of it makes me nervous. The grief I feel and the memories that come flooding in overwhelm me. The simple truth is: Sometimes the grief I feel is so enormous, there isn't room for anything else in my brain. How did I get to the kitchen? Who knows! I was engrossed in remembering a moment with my husband, trying to remember and feel and smell and somehow touch his memory. Another truth is: It's OK. This is where I am. This is what I'm going through.
I have learned to try to compartmentalize now and just focus on getting one simple task done at a time. Sometimes it takes a Herculean effort just to put on my shoes. I have to be ok with it. I have to let the old me go. I can't do things the way I always did, because everything has changed. My role has changed. Another role has vanished. My life experience has changed. I have changed.