Maybe, possibly, the difficulty had to do with the varying heart-opening poses we did that day. Stretching backwards, holding our arms behind us, swaying goddess poses-each one I did brought emotions up in much the same way we might feel when our gorge is rising and we just know that vomit isn't far behind. How's that for imagery? And yet that's just what happened to me that day, as I moved and shifted.
My body physically hurts these days, as if I've aged 20 years since Chuck died. He and I exercised regularly together for years, walking and hiking especially. I can count on one hand how many times I've exercised since his death and I ponder that frequently and sometimes ponder further that maybe I should feel guilty for the lack of guilt from not taking care of my body.
But, I don't. Feel guilty that is. Quite honestly, I don't care. And don't have the energy to either exercise or care about that I'm not exercising.
So, this yoga class brought home to me the realization that I have almost a psychological resistance to opening up. Which contradicts all I've striven for since last April: keeping my heart open to love. And I do. Outwardly. I'm good with opening up outwardly. Inwardly I suspect not so much. There's so much pain involved. My body is starved, I think. Starved for his touch, and I'm feeling it.
It was all I could do to not run screaming from that studio. Screaming with pain and agony and missing-ness and wildness. Did I run? Nope. I did each pose as best I could, struggling in a way I've never struggled before, tears tracking down my face, holding back sobs, images of his illness and death and the months since pounding in my head and heart.
Who is this woman I am now? Who is the woman I'm becoming? I have no idea. No frickin' idea. It's all about survival for me right now. Yes, I believe that somewhere there is an amazing future for me but that doesn't hold much water for me because, paradoxically really, I can't see a future.
Life is all about the here and now. And finding a way to connect with my body and make it again familiar and well. It was suggested to me that maybe it isn't so much about exercising right now as it is about massages and nurturing and loving me again.
Grief is hard, isn't it? I know that this isn't all about Chuck dying. Its also about the recognizable life that he and I shared dying. Its about the me who died with him. This time of grief and mourning is, I suppose, a birthing of sorts for me and it is accompanied by the pangs and pains and struggle that has to happen for life to be birthed again.
It sucks.
Alison, I find myself sharing a lot of that. My husband and I tried to eat healthfully, and since his death, I went on a 50lbs gained junk food bender. I haven't really worked out (or wanted to) in 3 years, even though one of my lat memories of my husband is him saying how beautiful I was doing my morning yoga. I bought hiking boots last night on Amazon, and it felt good. Not sure I'll ever be able to use them (it's snowing...AGAIN), but I'm trying to do a primal diet, with intermittent juice fasts (3day to start with), for my own good. At the same time, I feel angry that anything I do to improve my health may actually prolong my life...when what I want is to be WITH my dead husband, so yeah, totally mixed emotions are happening. Don't rush yourself. I'm 3 years into this journey, and only now am I able to try to live rather than just survive, and that's very much a day to day thing. I wish I had some wisdom to share, but mostly, keep breathing ;) It's the best advice I ever got.
ReplyDeleteKate
Kate,
DeleteIts reassuring to hear this from you, and helps me forgive myself just a bit. Yes, I pretty much just want to be with him too, and the sooner the better.
All of this grief is just a confusing mish-mosh of every emotion that has ever been.
Oh that's right-breathing! So often I forget to do that, seriously. How odd that we need to be reminded of what seems should be automatic. Yet isn't~
I've been thinking lately of doing something "crazy". Thru-hiking the AT. I don't know if i'd make the whole trail, but it's a thought that won't completely leave. When my husband and I met and first got together we lived 8 miles from the parkway, and would hike short stretches of the AT where it crosses. I have no idea why I'm telling you this. I just woke up with the sense that I should. Grief vs. Insanity, who knows? ;). Hope you have a good today.
DeleteKate
I so understand. I had an almost daily yoga practice going, and now...not so much. Those heart opening poses are just too painful, my mind says yes to them, but my heart says no. I also tried Asian bodywork therapy, but the minute she focused on my heart, I had to stop. She saw a fetus, laying in wait to my heart opening again. I saw only pain, and the need to protect my heart. I guess I wasn't and still am not ready for whatever comes next. You will know when the time is right for you. Yes, it sucks.Take care.
ReplyDeleteTherein lies the battle, doesn't it? I know so much intellectually with this-my career was in grief support in hospice. And none of it registers and I still need to hear from others to help it all make sense to me.
DeleteThank you, Cathy~
There is no time line nor no direct route through grief. A year and a half later, I still feel the emptiness in the pit of my gut. Started posting some of my random thoughts on bravewidows.blogspot.ca. Hope my words help other women.
DeleteThere are no words to describe the sense of emptiness, are there?
DeleteIf nothing else, you can rest assured that your words reach everyone to let them know that they aren't alone, and that matters~
I understand on a different level....not the exercise one but my house. I simply don't care if I pick up my socks or have dishes in the sink. I look around and feel like I am living in the house of a teenager sometimes. I have never been one of those people who scrubbed the house all the time but I cared about it and kept it clean. Who cares anymore? I pick up the main rooms and have them tidy when someone is coming over. It has been a little over 4 years and I have thought about dating again but I would have to keep the house in perfect order so right now that's just too much trouble. You have pushed yourself to do something that reached back into your former life and hopefully it will bring you joy in time. All in due time...
ReplyDeleteI don't keep the house as I used to. Also the laundry. I find it hard to keep up with laundry & it is just me. Glad to read Kathie that I'm not the only one. It has been a little over 4 years for me too.I just turned 76 & am not interested in finding another man. I have a small dog for company.
DeleteOh yeah, it sucks big time. I've been where you are and I know the pain and agony and sadness and depression and not knowing who you are or will become or how you will ever be able to survive without him. Two and a half years later I still am wondering, but I do feel better. It takes such a very long time, longer than I ever would have imagined. One foot in front of the other, one day at a time. That is all we can do. Hugs to you.
ReplyDeleteAnd hugs back to you, along with thanks for the encouragement. All of us need to hear from those who are further along this path to help us know that we can survive this gut-wrenching pain~
ReplyDeleteYou are a lifeline. Two days ago, for not dieting and keeping the house clean(er), I was viciously screamed at and it was strongly implied that I was a useless loser. Today, I went shopping and had to 1) have a cup of coffee and do my breathing and visualizing and compensating (telling myself to just get the basics) 2) break it down into two trips because I could not calculate the costs 3) had to ask for help finding an item literally right in front of me. I am doing laundry all day today because I couldn't get myself motivated and it has piled up. (Oh, yeah, I'm washing the bully's clothes, too. They will be neatly folded when he gets home.) I am afraid of the emotions I will experience if I enter the building, so I am no longer swimming which brought health and a sense of accomplishment.(I lost 25 lbs last year)
ReplyDeleteMaybe, if the women on this Blog will support me, I can do it. How about it? Last year I was actually physically assaulted and trapped in a section of the gym until some psycho bitch finished ranting at me-- INSISTING I be "sexy" and available to men. "Why not?", in her opinion. So, as I see so many of you artistic, beautiful, strong, intelligent women take a break from dating, I feel empowered. Should we all give it a go? Charge the line and tell the haters to Go F Themselves? I can bring my tablet and if things get too overwhelming I'll simply curl into a soggy, snotty ball and type for help furiously. My email address is Doretta_Johnson66@Yahoo.com. If this is too wacky, it's OK. But y'all got me fired up by writing about "anam caras", the perils of bachelorette parties, and crying-while-exercising. I thought I was the only one who did that.
Hey. Just wanted to tell you to do what you feel you need to do, and be gentle with yourself. Hugs!
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