Friday, January 15, 2010

I Still Look the Same

Despite my many good intentions, I have been a complete bum for the last week. We got home last Tuesday night and I have proceeded to be as lazy as one human being can possibly be. Fatigue washed over me like a tidal wave and I consigned myself to a life of pajamas, Diet Cokes, and the recliner. In my normal fashion I have attempted to analyze this fatigue. Is it exhaustion from the hospital and funeral home and traveling? Is it emotional fatigue? Is it because I am having trouble going to sleep at night? Is it because I have a 2 year old? Well, by Sunday afternoon when I passed out for 3 hours in the recliner in a room full of playing, noisy kids (don't worry, Josh was here) I came to the conclusion: I'm just stinkin' tired. Doesn't really matter what's causing it, I'm just tired!

So, due to this fatigue I went over a week without ever getting dressed, putting on make-up or entering the real world. Tuesday night I threw on some jeans and a jacket and made myself take the trash to the dump. I knew I needed to get out of the house. The dump seemed like a safe place that would not require hair straightening or communicating with other people. I even ventured past the dump to Sonic. Minimal human contact, but still it was progress.

Finally, I knew I had to emerge from my funk. Last night Josh said he would watch the kids so I could run to the store and have dinner with a friend. I knew this had gotten bad when I had to tell him to make me get ready to go. I mean, LaPinata with Karen is my most favoritest social outing. And I was going to the store to get a new purse, not grocery shopping. I should have really wanted to go. I finally did drag myself to the bathroom to get ready. I straightened my hair, applied my make-up and sprayed some perfume. I pulled some clothes out of my suitcase (yep, they're still there) and put on some jewelry. I looked in the mirror and...I looked the same.

I don't know what I expected. It just seems that after an event like losing your Dad, that you should look different. I don't doubt that the last few weeks have added some lines around my eyes, but when I would make myself smile, I still looked the same. As I shopped in the store and arrived at the restaurant I thought, 'These people don't know. They have no idea that my life has just completely changed in a matter of weeks.' And that is the heart of what always makes tragedy so hard.

When I lost my six year old cousin I was 17. It was my first experience with an event like that and I remember the moment it hit me that while our world was crashing in on us, life was going on for everyone else. It's not a bad thing. It's just a thing. It's just the way it works.

I enjoyed my dinner and especially the conversation. I am blessed with a best friend who knows how to listen and knows the right things to say. We were able to talk about totally unrelated things and then at any moment I could share something really painful and it was okay. And she knows that while I still look the same...I will never be the same.


III said...

Even if the folks at Sonic, or the mirror, or the rest of the world acts like they don't know -- God knows.

Melody said...

I'm so glad you could get out and just "be" with a friend. I'm sorry for your loss and know this is such a hard time. Thinking about you and praying for you, my friend!