Going out

I’m going out today.  That may not seem like a big deal but it really is. These days, I hate to go out.  I hate going to the store, I hate going to the gas station, I hate going anywhere.  I prefer to sit in the house and watch TV and not do anything I don’t have to.

So it’s making a move in the right direction to go out shopping today.  I’m taking it in small doses.  I received a coupon from Catherine’s for 50% off any and all purchases today as an early “Black Friday” deal.  I know I need some dress pants for the cruise so I can dress for dinner.  I had decided to wear the black pants I bought for Donnie’s funeral but they’re kind of loose and baggy and it feels like they’re too big.  I was going to wear them anyway but….I think I’m going to try to find a better pair.

Might not seem like a big deal but it is.  To me.

It’s so strange.  The entire time Donnie and I were together, I made all the decisions about furniture, travel, hotels, blah, blah, blah.  Now that he’s gone, I often find myself like a deer in the headlights.  Confused and indecisive about the simplest things.  I’ll walk around the store forever and can’t make a decision about dinner. I put off the simplest things because I’m insecure about what to do.

I’m feeling really relieved this morning because I made myself make reservations for a hotel in Miami when we go on the cruise.  I can’t begin to tell you how many hours I’ve spent on the computer looking at hotels and condos, racked with indecision.  I’ll go to make a reservation and then decide to wait and look another time.  Several times, I’ve actually set a goal for myself that I would not go to bed until I’d made a reservation. And still, I just couldn’t make a decision.

As trivial as it seems, I feel like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders.  It’s done.  It’s paid for. Now I can move on to something else.


Let it Begin

Yesterday was a rough day for me.  Sometimes it’s like that.  I have days when I just feel like I’m going to be hurting forever.  I have a cruise coming up with the kids in about three weeks.  I thought it would be good to get away for Christmas and not have to be here with so many memories during the holiday.

My sister, Donna, invited me to join her on another cruise in April and I booked it yesterday.  I also had to book a hotel room and parking at the port and what should have been something to look forward to brought up a lot of memories of trips Donnie and I took.  As the day wore on, it just seemed like all I could think about was how many things we did and how intricately he’s tied to every thought and memory I have.

I spent a good part of the day crying and hurting until I could finally take a couple of Tylenol PMs and go to bed.  I slept till 11:00 and just woke up.

I try to do what I can to get through each day.  I know he wouldn’t want me to be like this.  I have to do the best I can to live my life and savor the memories instead of letting them eat me alive.

I feel like crap.  I’m tired and sluggish and have no energy whatsoever.  I know it would benefit me to start eating right and getting some exercise so I’m taking the first step today.  I made arrangements to get rid of a bed that I’ve had up in the bedroom where my treadmill is.

After Donnie died, I couldn’t sleep in our big king size bed.  I just couldn’t do it.  So I moved it upstairs and dismantled and stored the bed that was in another upstairs bedroom by folding up the base of my treadmill and propping the bed against the wall where the treadmill had been.  Treadmill effectively out of action.

Today, I’m clearing it out.  I don’t know that I’ll get on my treadmill today but I’ll get it ready.  When I feel like jumping on it, it’ll be ready to go.

Our old bedroom doesn’t exist anymore.  I had to redo it so I could sleep without reaching for Donnie every night and seeing all his stuff.  It was like sensory overload and was a lot more than I could handle.

So I redid the bedroom.  Used a lot of white because that’s something I never could have pulled off with my sweet man constantly eating pizza in bed or tracking in dirt.  I’ll always miss him at night but, at least, I don’t wake up in “our” environment to find that he’s not there.  The new bedroom is very different and the bed is a lot smaller.  I still wake up a lot at night but I’m instantly aware that I’m in a different place and I don’t expect him be there.  I don’t sleep in the dark anymore.  I leave a night light on so the minute I open my eyes, I know things are different.  It helps.

Yesterday was a hard day but it brought an awareness of how miserable I am and a sort of “awakening” that I can’t continue this way.  It may not be much, but getting rid of a bed and providing access to my treadmill is a tiny step to taking better care of myself.



I kept thinking about what to call this post.  I titled it “Starting Over” but then I realized there is no starting over.  Starting over implies that you may, one day, get back to where you were.

And I know I’ll never get to go back to where I was.

Maybe I should title it “Drifting” or “Mindless” or just plain “Lost”.

Because that’s what I am.  Lost.  I sit here day after day just killing time.  Everything I see and everything I do is touched by an undercurrent of sadness.  It’s been four months since Donnie passed away and, although I no longer spend my days crying, I still think about him every single day.  Memories of him touch everything I do, everywhere I go, everyone I see.

I go through the motions, at least some of them, of living but nothing really means the same as it did.  I don’t care if the house falls apart.  I don’t care if it gets cleaned.  I don’t care about seeing anyone or doing anything.  That doesn’t mean that I don’t clean the house or go out with friends or keep things going.  It’s just that there isn’t any joy or excitement in my life anymore.

Maybe I’m where I’m supposed to be.  Who knows what’s normal and what’s not.  I’m still grieving and I think I’ll be grieving the rest of my life.

I keep telling myself that I have to move on.  Go out.  See people.  Act normal.  But nothing feels like it should.  I wear the same clothes over and over and over again.  Two or three “outfits”, if you want to call them that, of tee shirts and knit pants and athletic shoes.  I don’t want to go shopping.  I don’t wear makeup most days.  Sometimes, I never get dressed.

I do keep busy.  I make myself keep up with my little jam and jelly business but I don’t want to do events.  I just want to stand over a stove and mindlessly make jams and jellies and pickles.  Make them, label them, sell them.  It’s just something to keep me busy.  My sister is booking all the shows and pushing the envelope and I just follow along.

I don’t even think about what I eat.  In fact, most days I don’t eat anything until evening and then I eat whatever is convenient.  I might eat a bowl of ice cream or fix a frozen pizza.  It really doesn’t matter.  I’ll sit in front of the TV and mindlessly nibble on stuff.  Then I’ll look down and wonder what happened to a whole bag of candy or chips or whatever crap I’ve been eating and go looking for something else.

I guess what I need to do is to find some way to just start.  Just do something.