Here I am.  That’s about sums it up.  I have SO much to say, but none of it seems to matter.  I’m not unhappy.  That doesn’t describe how I feel at all.  Out of place, confused, upside down, surreal, weird, lost.  None of those work either.  Wrong.  That’s the best way to describe how I feel–WRONG.  And it’s not just one thing; it’s everything.  EVERYTHING is WRONG!!!  It SEEMS okay, but it’s not.  Millions of people go through losing someone they love and feel similar emotions.  Sometimes it’s comforting to think that so many others have felt this loss, and sometimes it’s annoying to think that I am not unique.

I feel as if I’m not living my life anymore.  It just HAS to be someone else’s because this isn’t me or my life.  I don’t dislike it; it’s just not MINE.  Or maybe (probably more likely), it IS my life, and I just haven’t admitted to myself that this is my “new” life.  Denial and numbness is the only way to get through the day sometimes.  I can’t seem to wrap my head around the fact that I can’t talk to him about all the things I need to discuss or have his quiet strength here with me when I need him, so this can’t be my life.

I’ll be honest with you.  I’ve adjusted to a lot of new normals in the past year or so, and I think I’ve done a pretty good job.  I’ve rolled with the punches.  I’ve moved things (A LOT!), waded through some water & stuff, thought “outside the box”, been patient when it wasn’t easy, faced some harsh realities (with my rose-colored glasses, of course), tried to change the things I could, and let go of the things that I couldn’t.  I’ve always been okay with change.  It has never bothered me to change a routine, change location, or change a way of doing something.  This is different.  This isn’t change; this is loss.  Loss of part of your heart sounds a little cheesy, but that is exactly how it feels.  And being without part of your heart makes it difficult to breathe sometimes.  And being unable to breathe makes it difficult to move or think which makes it difficult to live.

So many people want to help me.   I will never be able to repay or feel that I deserve all of the wonderful people that have been placed in my path.  Unfortunately as much as I love them and despite their very best intentions, they can’t fix this.  I know from experience that it is awful to watch someone you love suffer and not really be able to help.  It’s okay.  I’m okay.  There is nothing that can be done except to endure. I keep getting out of bed, I’m doing things, I’m even trying to think past one day at a time and make some simple plans.  I get tired easily.  Being around people is enjoyable, but it wears me out.  I am most content by myself or with my fur babies.  I’ve always needed time by myself to recharge, and I’m guessing that time will be needed even more in the upcoming months.

I know based on other’s experience and my own common sense, that time will help.  Time is really the only thing that can make something completely wrong become normal.   A friend who is going through a very similar situation told me that he wished he could tell me it would feel better soon, but he said that it started out unbearably awful, then moved to terrible, and now four years out (for him), it’s just bad.  He doesn’t sit around depressed or sad all the time, and I don’t intend to do that either.  He has a peaceful existence, but there will always be something wrong.   I think that is how it will be for me as well.  I will be happy; I will live my life, but it will never be quite right again.

I know this post is rambly and kind of pointless, but it is where I am at this moment.  Wrong place, wrong time, wrong everything, but here I am.