Yesterday was hard. Really, really hard. I couldn’t think. I cried. Constantly. Deep sobs coming up from my gut. Hot tears (tears of extreme grief really are hotter than any other tears) rolling down my face. Why? Well, other than the obvious. I had no idea. The later it got, the less I could function. My entire body felt like a collection of sandbags. Wet sandbags. Cold, wet sandbags. I couldn’t get warm. Finally, around 1:30, I couldn’t take it anymore. I got Frank’s fuzzy blanket from his chair, wrapped myself up in it, turned on the Food Network, and curled up on the couch.
I was asleep before the Barefoot Contessa came back from commercial-land.
Waking about an hour later, I had a few moments of clarity before the same wet-sandbag-grief scooped me up again–I was forcing myself to do something I just wasn’t ready to do. A local group for parents of addicts has been asking me to attend their meetings. I had planned on going to the one last night. It’s a great group, and one I’m wholeheartedly behind. I know it’s important for me to go, not just for me but for the other parents in my situation, or afraid they will be in my situation.
I want to help. It makes me feel better to be there for others. But I just wasn’t ready. Here, on this blog, I can say my piece and cry my tears, all from the sanctuary of my loft office. I can click out of a conversation, save responses for when I’m better able to handle them, and revise my words so that they don’t come out in the verbal-chaos I’m otherwise prone to. Being able to write my thoughts in a manner others find pleasing doesn’t necessarily equate to verbal eloquence. In other words, me don’t talk so good.
Realizing this, I made the decision not to go. I felt bad about that, but not as bad as I felt forcing myself to do so. Selfish? Damn straight. And I’m okay with that.
Today is much better. I woke feeling more positive. I had a day of writing ahead of me, then dinner with two of my dearest friends, followed by a book-signing for another friend. What a life, eh? Then a conversation with one of those friends this morning pushed me from positive into, well, happy. I’m feeling happy today. I’ll leave that there. It’s enough.
It’s crazy, how our bodies let us know things our brains don’t want to acknowledge. Another life lesson for me. I’ll be quicker to pick up on cues in the future. And I will attend this group at some point. When I’m ready. Not a moment before.