3 years

I thought I would be "over" this by now.
I thought I would have gotten good at it.
I had expected to have proven I am strong enough to handle it.

I keep telling myself it will get better, and we are doing fine.

But the truth is, I lie to myself.

I tell my brain we are doing it, but my body knows. It knows every year as November approaches it is another anniversary, no matter how hard I try not to acknowledge it. I try to cover up the tragic date with acts of kindness in memory of him. But somehow my loss still over shadows it.

I trick myself into thinking I am doing good because I get to where I am suppose to be each day and my kids are where they go. I arrive with what sometimes feels like a fake face hiding behind the make-up. (A trick I learned early on, if you look good, people are less likely to ask how you are.)

The truth is I feel more alone than I ever did.

I lost my mom 5 and a half years ago. I lost Kris 3 years ago today. But I feel I have lost countless friends throughout my life as well. I am not always sure why I have fallen out of touch with them, but here are some thoughts on it. Some I think were close to Kris, and have a hard time seeing me with out him. The whole out of sight, out of mind thing.  Some I think we have just got such busy lives it is tough to fit one another in as often. Some I think just don't realize how much I truly need them. They think because I keep busy I am doing ok. I think what it is, is I am just much more aware of loss than I was. I truly miss when I lose contact with those whom I was close to.

Worthless...

While I know this is far from the truth, and that I do have worth, lately I am not feeling it. I know I need to be here for my children, they are the ONLY reason I get myself out of bed each morning, push myself through school, work three jobs, otherwise I would be perfectly content to simply lay in bed until I didn't wake up. I am not saying I would cause harm to myself, just that I would rather be with Kris and my mom, who always made me feel I had worth, and value... rather than be here having to convince myself I do for my kids, although they teenagers, and not too keen on telling me they value what I do for them.
I used to be surprised talking with Kris about what motivates him with work. It was never money or benefits, but simple words of encouragement, praise, gratitude. I can see it now. It is when I feel the most alone, and worthless these thoughts of I wish I didn't wake up this morning creep into my thoughts more regularly. But on the rare occasion that one of my kids thank me, or acknowledge something, I am more motivated to help them. If someone from work or school compliments me on an assignment, or a class, I want to try harder. I think I had become so accustomed to these compliments, from Kris, my job, my younger kids, that as they have gone away, I feel my desire to do my best goes with it.
I used to be that mom, that was at every event, volunteered for everything, had cutesy parties, and invites, and giveaways for every holiday. Now I consider it a miracle if I make it to everywhere I need to be.
I think this whole aspect of widow hood never crossed my mind until my overactive mind tried to put reasons, or justifications for some poor choices I have made lately. I don't want to go into those reasons right now, until I feel I have resolved them with myself. But I do wish to offer a warning to my widow friends, and anyone else struggling right now. Don't give into flattery from silver tongued people. By certain they have you and your best interest at heart, if there is any question avoid them.

I am a mess!

There, I admitted it... now isn't that usually the first step? Sure there are several factors that have contributed to my self proclaimed "mess" but what finally brought me to the point of admitting it? To put it simply... that I am a fraud. I try to not only fool myself into believing I am doing better than I really am, but I convince myself I have tricked my near and dear family I am fine as well... since the only one who truly knew me well enough to know when I was faking is dead.

I go from thinking I have come up with a perfect "balance" of grieving. I set aside a time and a place to let my tears escape. But then when I realize I am not really in that much control, I start just denying myself those emotions that need to escape. I haven't been to the cemetery in nearly 2 months... the longest ever since he has been gone. Instead of letting myself cry in the shower, or watch a sad movie that will give me the excuse to cry, I leave little time to shower that long, or avoid movies. When I am feeling those emotions force their way into my already busy schedule, I shut down. That's right, rather than let myself admit how much I am still suffering from the loss of my husband, I trick myself into thinking if I just go to sleep for a couple hours it will pass when I wake up.

Now if I had done this when I was healthy and fine I would have caught it right away that depression was sinking in... but nope it started just before the holidays, when it is "normal" to be depressed, it is seasonal, I am going on a great vacation so it will be fine once I get there, I am sick so I need sleep... anyway I try to justify it the fact is I am depressed, again. Problem is the medication that has worked really well for me the last almost 20 years seems to now make me kinda sick to my stomach, and I don't have health insurance to go try something new until I find the one that works.

Now that is just the tip of the iceberg as to why I am a mess. This whole post is about me sorting out how I do, with writing to figure out why I am such a mess.

I am suppose to start back at school tomorrow, my classes were all set up, until I failed one I had to pass. I have spent the last couple weeks trying to sort it out and make it work, when I began to question if teaching English is what I really want to do. I feel like I need to finish my dance degree, the closer I get to being done with school, the more I realize I don't want to be done with dance. I know I will always have a place with teaching dance at my studio, but I don't know if that is enough. Am I just questioning it because I failed one class? Maybe I am just burned out with school right now. Either way I am suppose to start something tomorrow and I don't even know for certain what it will be.

This whole dating thing... it is killing me. My first dating experience I had mentioned was with a good friend I grew up with, and he recently got involved in a relationship. I am so happy for him, but it made me realize some things. When I reached out to date him, I thought I was ready to try dating. I was tired of being alone that first year and wanted something. He only agreed to go out with me because of our history, he was not ready for something yet, as he still felt broken. As I dated him and and others. I realized I was ready for anything romantic. I liked dating him because it was familiar, and comfortable, but not romantic, nor did I ever feel it needed to be. He was what I needed. I think I was what he needed as well, because he was then ready when the right person came into his life to try a relationship. So in this past year I have experimented on and off with online dating... and I am again having serious doubts as to whether or not I am ready for it. My inbox is so flooded with unanswered messages it would take me replying to just those and nothing else next week and still not be caught up. But perhaps I am doing it all wrong... I mean do you answer politely every guy that writes? How long do you message before giving your number? If they ask for a second date, but you feel no "sparks" how do you politely decline? I have considered just accepting every invite and writing a book on it... a guide to online dating so to speak... then I bawl my way through "you've got mail", after my initial laughter at how funny hearing the internet connect from 15 years ago, I realize can be nice... and sometimes the writing back and forth is nice...

I have gotten sucked into TV much more lately. I can't think of the last book I read because I wanted to. My house needs some serious organizing attention (I really miss the days when I was so organized). My kids are growing up so fast, Bren will be 18 in less than a month and he talks about moving out and it scares me for him. I hate that Kris isn't here to help me make sure we have given him everything he needs to begin conquering the adult world. It was very comforting to watch Weslie at 15 play legos with Clayton 10 and still use imagination and make up games. I didn't even make them clean them up, or get mad because they weren't cleaning their rooms like they were suppose to, I still have "kids". I hate realizing they are growing up, because tat just seems to put me closer to being alone.

I should be celebrating my victories, but instead I just want to be in bed feeling sorry for myself. I want to get out and be with other people besides my kids all day, but I make excuses when invited. I want to feel motivated and organized, and have everything planned out, but I know from experience it doesn't always work that way.