Every day is a new adventure. Some bits of crappy, but an experience just the same. You know how sometimes things aren't pleasant and so you just take little bites of it at a time so as not to take in too much at once? That's what this all feels like to me. I just can't handle the truth of it all, so I only take little pieces in at a time. Like "single". I'm getting to where I can almost think that word without feeling tears. Okay, so that may be the only "bite" I'm taking right now, but it's a start. No pictures. No musings. Very, very few glimpses backwards or forwards. That is too heavy. What's really unpleasant is thinking about all that others around me have and take for granted that I used to have and now don't. Plus, I'm not the smartest chick out there. I'm making life-altering decisions based on logic which feels a lot like running with scissors. I don't think I'll screw up anything too much, but I don't feel like I can be trusted either. That's a strange realization... when you suddenly feel like your eyes are opened to exactly how much damage you could do.
What really shocks me though is realizing how little value that I hold for self right now. I want to stay healthy, happy, grounded for my kids, but I really just don't care outside of that. I feel like we're punching a time card to get done with this "life" and get on with it. I know that this is not what God wants me to approach life with, but I'm only 1/2 here. There's only 1/2 of me present. Sometimes I wonder, "Crap, what if I live to be 90?" That used to sound like an accomplishment. Right now, it seems like that would be 60 years of hell. Or at least misery with sprinkles. I LOVE my children. I LOVE my family and friends. I just hold so little appreciation for life right now. Maybe I shouldn't type at night. I just want my guy. I can't stop looking for him. I can't. I don't expect him to walk in; I don't have that urge. I just keep thinking that if I look a little harder, I'll find him. I could almost embrace hallucinations. I don't know that I want that to go away. I don't want to admit that he's gone. More importantly, I don't want it to seem like he didn't matter. Or that he wasn't everything that I ever wanted. All his quirks and nuances.... I loved them. All my flaws and idiosyncrasies... he loved them. How can that just be gone? What am I supposed to do with all this time that I've been given? I'm 32. What happened to Aaron isn't fair. He should be here. He should be reading to his kids. He should be laughing with us. He should be making a difference in young lives. He should be playing catch. He should be building a house with me. He should be able to feel this freakin' cold and drone on and on about wanting to go golfing. He should be here. Why him? Why now? Why us? How?! I am so, so, SO pissed off about this. Pissed and hurt and angry and confused and lost. Simply lost. And torn. I'm bitching about losing my husband when he's the one who lost his life. Seems pretty selfish, huh? Cheesy moment-- I heard Natalie Imbruglia's song "Torn" on the radio the other day. I loved that song in high school. You know, back when life was uncomplicated (says no teenager EVER), at least for me. "I'm all out of faith. This is how I feel. I'm cold and I'm ashamed, lying naked on the floor. Illusion never changed into something real. I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn... You're a little late. I'm already torn." At this moment, I just have nothing left. I have stumbled. I have fallen. I'm so deeply torn. Help, Lord.
What really shocks me though is realizing how little value that I hold for self right now. I want to stay healthy, happy, grounded for my kids, but I really just don't care outside of that. I feel like we're punching a time card to get done with this "life" and get on with it. I know that this is not what God wants me to approach life with, but I'm only 1/2 here. There's only 1/2 of me present. Sometimes I wonder, "Crap, what if I live to be 90?" That used to sound like an accomplishment. Right now, it seems like that would be 60 years of hell. Or at least misery with sprinkles. I LOVE my children. I LOVE my family and friends. I just hold so little appreciation for life right now. Maybe I shouldn't type at night. I just want my guy. I can't stop looking for him. I can't. I don't expect him to walk in; I don't have that urge. I just keep thinking that if I look a little harder, I'll find him. I could almost embrace hallucinations. I don't know that I want that to go away. I don't want to admit that he's gone. More importantly, I don't want it to seem like he didn't matter. Or that he wasn't everything that I ever wanted. All his quirks and nuances.... I loved them. All my flaws and idiosyncrasies... he loved them. How can that just be gone? What am I supposed to do with all this time that I've been given? I'm 32. What happened to Aaron isn't fair. He should be here. He should be reading to his kids. He should be laughing with us. He should be making a difference in young lives. He should be playing catch. He should be building a house with me. He should be able to feel this freakin' cold and drone on and on about wanting to go golfing. He should be here. Why him? Why now? Why us? How?! I am so, so, SO pissed off about this. Pissed and hurt and angry and confused and lost. Simply lost. And torn. I'm bitching about losing my husband when he's the one who lost his life. Seems pretty selfish, huh? Cheesy moment-- I heard Natalie Imbruglia's song "Torn" on the radio the other day. I loved that song in high school. You know, back when life was uncomplicated (says no teenager EVER), at least for me. "I'm all out of faith. This is how I feel. I'm cold and I'm ashamed, lying naked on the floor. Illusion never changed into something real. I'm wide awake and I can see the perfect sky is torn... You're a little late. I'm already torn." At this moment, I just have nothing left. I have stumbled. I have fallen. I'm so deeply torn. Help, Lord.
RSS Feed
