so thoroughly
that I am sure my body now uses it
in place of 30% of my blood.
I can't think.
Eating feels too strenuous
unless I can rip open a bag.
And then if I do,
what I eat is so tasteless
that I end up spitting it out
into the garbage.
Why bother making the effort to chew that crap.
I look haggard,
drawn,
tight.
My skin does not reflect exuberance
but looks more like a pond that has not been drained
properly, murky, unclear and blachy.
I know that I am killing myself.
Not by over dosing on pills,
or alcohol
but by just running at this pace,
the pace of a young,hustling widow
with kids.
I know it needs to stop,
or my body will stop me.
And then I will be made to rest
in a hospital
and it will be a fitful, uneasy rest
because even there
I will be making the ever changing priority list
of things that NEED to get done.
So as I crawl into bed, faced with
the prospect of getting
8 hours of sleep, instead of the 5 I can't exist on
I promise myself that I will
let
the
list
lie.
I promise that I will stretch in the morning.
I promise that I will use the damn massage
gift certificate that was
sent to me
(anonymously)
over a year ago.
(This person took the time to send me several of them! So I better damn use them. THANK YOU whoever you are.)
I promise to refill the well with water by
sleeping
and eating
and doing nothing
nothing
nothing
for at least 30 minutes a day.
He would be proud of me for all of my promises.
He used to say
"What? Do you think you'll finally
get everything done on your list?
You will die with a to-do list so
stop worrying about it so much."
He died with his to-do list
and the biggest thing that is going
undone
is me.
Kim, I can relate to this so much! Just last week, I felt the same way. Finally I said to myself it will get done when it gets done, most of my list, do not really have to get done. but I want to get done. Do only what you have to and then do at least one thing you want just because you want it. Like you my husband would say the same things to me, he would carry me off to do something fun, saying it will be there to be done tomorrow. So now I give myself permission to be lazy, selfish and do something I need to do for my own good. Do get the massages! You will love it! I joined a singles group for fun for myself- new people will do me good and be a way to reinvent myself!
ReplyDeleteOh God, this is my life. Just now (16 months after his death, how many more since his illness began...), I am realizing a person cannot exist indefinitely on only coffee in the morning and vodka at night. Cannot survive sleeping only in 2 hour increments. That the notion that somehow if I am completely drained and empty more pain can't touch me is pretty insane. I am trying to pull out of this nosedive, but it's the hardest work I've ever done. Thanks for writing it here. carolyn
ReplyDeleteIt is now creeping up on 3 years since my husband passed. That day still looms in front of me like a huge hole waiting to swallow me up for days. My children are grown so I don't have the day to day caring for kids and their needs. I just have me. In the last 2 years and some months that it's been I've lost 70 pounds. Existing on junk and coffee and Xanax. He would be disappointed in me for that. I don't sleep much and when I do it's terrifying nightmares. I'm still scared. The shock and anger and sadness have gone. All that remains is a colorless existence. There is no joy. I miss him..God how I miss him...
ReplyDeleteOh my can I ever relate! Its four years later and still tired. I wake up tired in the morning. I take naps and am still tired. Thank you for writing this...its nice to know I'm not alone.
ReplyDelete