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| This is actually what I looked like at my desk today. |
Today was not a Good Day.
Instead of outlining all of the insignificant facts that made this a Bad Day, I will talk about why I have recently been having more Bad Days than Good.
Since I am being exact with my calculations, I lost my husband to suicide 628 days ago (see my earlier post). Since that time, I have navigated the aftermath of his death (planning a funeral, buying an urn, finding ways to honor his memory), changed offices at my job three times, started dating someone, broke up with said someone, was admitted to a mental hospital, and then was diagnosed with a pulmonary embolism.
Through all of these things, I was able to convince myself that life was still "okay." Until the pulmonary embolism.
When Ben died, I believed that my life was over, too. However, by finding ways to honor his memory, I love him more than ever and feel more happiness than sadness when I think of him. I don't need to talk about what an amazing person he was - anyone who knew him is aware of that. Anyone who ever saw us together understands how deep my love was for him. Nothing else needs to be said.
The pulmonary embolism diagnosis literally almost killed me. I am sitting at my computer typing because of sheer luck. Perhaps if the wind was blowing a different way that day, I would not have been so lucky. After being released from the hospital, I care so much less about things that should matter to me: work, relationships, even my own well-being. I suppose facing one's own mortality will elicit such a reaction. However, these feelings are distinctly NOT ME.
It frightens me how little I care. It frightens me that a future that was once bright and full of hope is now a black hole of negative energy. It's almost as if my life stopped that day in the ER when the doctor looked at me with a stony expression and explained that I have a clot in my lung. Being in the hospital was novel but, when I was released, I felt like I was swimming in dark waters without a life preserver.
The lights could have gone out and not come back on.
I plow through and do what is expected of me. I don't enjoy it. Mostly, I feel angered and annoyed. I am not such a fool to believe that anything is beyond hope but hope is just beyond my reach.
Through whatever tears I am unable to hold back, I remind myself that everything is temporary. My mood is temporary, my health problems are temporary, life is temporary. Today was bad, tomorrow may be great. Even my present exasperation cannot prevent me from believing in the future. By nature, I am a positive person. Even if tomorrow is bad, there is the next day. Or the next.
If all else fails, I will blame my anguish on my unexpectedly bad menstrual cycles. Hormones, hormones, hormones, cry, cry, cry.
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