Anxiety

I’m feeling on edge tonight. It started this morning actually: walking around at work doing DIs ( daily inspections) on our support equipment, and getting irritated with members of the other trade I work with because they always seem to be sitting in the canteen while the rest of us are getting things done. I’ve never actually spoken out loud but today I did. I’m not a very outspoken person. I think it caught others off guard.

When I came home the dogs were being dogs and it was really getting under my last nerve. When Randy came home from work, it was no better.

I feel very unconfortable today: mentally. I feel like I’m sitting in a dark place and it’s an awful place to be. It’s not depression: it’s just an uncomfortable, dark place and I can’t explain it more than that.

I feel like I might explode or implode: I’m not sure which. The messiness of the house is getting to me. The unkempt yard is getting to me. The weather; the laundry; my hair; my skin…. just about everything i could pick apart. And I don’t like the way this feels.

I came across a video of Sam yesterday. As I was driving home I was talking to him, as I often do when i drive and I told him I just needed to see his face and to hear his voice. Badly. When I opened my Facebook shortly after I got home, there he was: his brother had shared a memory that came up and that memory was a video of Sam playing his guitar and singing. I had looked up the song just two weeks ago because it was a song that Sam really felt…a song that we had talked about in the past. I broke down: I broke down hard. But at the same time, how beautiful it was to see his face and to hear his voice. It brought him back to me for a few precious moments. It was a gift. But it broke my heart all over again if that is even possible since my heart is already in tatters. There are a few videos that Sam gifted us over the past few years. But I’m not yet able to watch them. It just hurts too much. Yesterday caught me off guard: I wasn’t expecting to see him. Yet, I asked him to let me see his face and hear his voice, and that is what I got. And I am grateful. But it hurt.

It gets frustrating when I feel like I’m making progress in my grief but then I fall down. I thought I would be in a better place after a good night’s sleep but I only slept 4 hours: I had to get up at 0330 for work. I have to do the same tomorrow.

According to society, I’m supposed to be moving forward from the grief but I’m stuck. All the psychology appointments; all the outreach phonecalls; all the charities I support in Sam’s name: nothing is helping me to accept this reality. Sam is gone. My heart is not getting past that. My children are an extension of me: they are a part of me and with one missing I just can’t be whole again.

I need to feel a shift in the Universe. I need to feel alive inside my heart again.