Submitted by megan on Mon, 01/14/2008 - 23:48
I haven't been sleeping all that well since I got home. The first night I kept waking up with the feeling that someone was trying to get in my apartment. Or already in. It was unsettling, to say the least.
Since then it's been one thing or another. I've been having temperature issues: one night my feet were so cold I only dozed for three hours, finally waking up enough at 2 am to change from the merino socks to a fresh pair of socks. This morning, I woke up after 5 fitful hours of sleep (I'm too hot, maybe if I stick my foot out. Now my foot's too cold. If I stick my arm out. Maybe also my shoul-) to argue with myself over whether it mattered if Eric were back in the game again.
I'm sure he's dating again.
You don't know that.
I'm sure of it.
You don't know.
It doesn't matter. It's his life. It's not your business.
It is! It hurts! He was supposed to love me! ME!
It's not your business.
A hard-won battle, but at least it ended in another somnambulent hour before the alarm.
It's 11 pm now, and I'm not long off the phone with Shelley, who talked me down out of a crying jag.
"I'm going to feel like this forEVER."
"No, sweetie, it'll pass."
"This feels worse than last time."
"Oh, oh no. You were a disaster last time. You're doing better than that. Give it another few weeks and the edge'll be off. You'll start to feel a little better soon."
"Really? You promise?"
"Yeah. I promise."
Walking is really hard. When I'm home or at work or with friends, I am generally well distracted. When I'm walking, there's just me and my stupid brain. I get into these endless loops of whatifs and whys. And then I find myself crying on the street and repeating "Please let it be a month already, please let" like an incantation. Like a month will be an accomplishment. If I can survive the first month, I can survive.
I'm trying to find a balance between distraction and feeling. On my walk home from work today, during which I cried beside the playground on Nepean, I reminded myself that it is a privilege to feel sad. I have been in situations before where the only way I could survive was by not feeling anything. I am thankful this is not that.
Over the next few days I think I will try poking around in that sadness and try to explain it to you.
Right now, I'm exhausted and only typing because I'm afraid to go to bed and fight an endless fight with myself. But I will go, reminding myself to breathe until I'm under.