Sunday, January 16, 2011

On A Four Star Floor

Written on Thursday, January 13, 2011 during my two day break from the kids.

I’m sitting on the floor of a four star hotel (paid for with Amex points)
I’m crying
I can’t seem to stop.

This is not how I wanted this break to go.
I wanted it to be about rejuvenation and rest and self-love.

Instead it feels, right now, like it’s about not enoughness and loss and fucking grief.

It feels like it's about transition and learning.

It feels like there will be no peace from the hole, the void, the confusion that has placed me on the floor of this four star hotel.

I got this email from a client, someone who should have never been a client.
She is upset with how I am working with her. I take her criticism and turn it global. I smear it all over my body.

I become
what is wrong,
instead of just my wrong action.

After two glasses of wine,
I send a bit cocky email to a guy who I like.
This afternoon, I reread it and am amazed how there is no gentleness or softness, something I like to be, I need to be, I like to be with him.

I layer that mistake on top of the one I made with my client.

I become all things bad.

And then I open up my web browser
And I see
a photo of
Christina Green’s brother (Tuscon shootings)
wiping tears away.

I stand up, sobbing.
I pace the floor.
I walk over to the window, back to the hotel door.
Then without knowing that I am doing it,
I am on my knees on the floor,
hands covering my face, forehead leaning of the floor.

I laugh for a moment, I have spent a lot of time on floors this past one year and 8 months!

And I think:
How is it I’m grieving again?
How is it that the sobs can come from a place so deep I forget it exists?

I think:
I don’t’ want this life.

I think:
This is just too hard

The kids, the dating
The business

I think:
I want it all to be easy
Because after what I have been through,

I think I deserve easy.

I want easy.

I desire easy.

I think:
is not
what this is!

One sob out, a slower breath in and I remember,
it’s not them.
It’s not what they do or say or what I write or the photo I saw that leave me on the floor.

It’s that I have forgotten
I am still a well-functioning

raw nerve.

The emotions from Art’s death are just a short dig, a disappointed client, a stupid email, a photograph away.

When will I stop being so sensitive?

Maybe that’s the
question. Maybe the question is:

When will I just give into the sensitivity and learn to embrace it?

I think

it’s what

makes me real.


  1. Dear Kim, I wish I could give you a hug. Nobody else can understand what we go through. I had a similar reaction last night. I saw a movie and part of the story was the star's 40th wedding anniversary party--my husband died short of our 40th. I sat in the dark with a group of friends and was overcome with sadness and grief. I held it together until I got in the car then cried all the way home. This sucks big time. Take care. Your friend, Sandy

  2. Oh Kim, how we have all felt the way you have! I can feel your pain! It has just resently realized that my grief is something that will never really go away, but be something I must learn to live with! It will hit me out of nowhere, but it is a part of me, a scar that is hidden from the rest of the world. But this grief also brings me things other people will never get, appreciation for the everyday small things, a smile, a laugh, bringing brought a cup of coffee/ tea in the morning that you did not have to make- we will always be more grateful for those things than those who have not experienced this loss. To me thing is what will bring us greater joy when those things are given to us. So yes, it is a double edged sword we must live with! I send my love to you, because when the grief comes yet again, it still stinks at the same time!

  3. Just's like you took what I feel and put it into words. Thank you.

  4. Well said, Kim. There are days I just want my old life back. For me, dating is off the table until I get my kids raised. One less thing to think about....

  5. Tears are healing. You are still healing, little by little. Embrace your tears and grief, as it allows you to move forward. Good job!!

  6. Hugs, thank you for your honesty. We can feel and understand the pain. For me I want my old life back and know I can't have it, I don't want the future without him, so I just go day to day and the only thing I ask for is easy, peaceful days no drama -From my poor husband being sick I've had enough of illness & hospitals to last my life time I'm tired and easy, peaceful and quiet is all I ask for now to get me thru this daily hell called life.

  7. YES. I could have written every word of this... but you said it much more eloquently. Thank you.