Okay?
I’ve been telling myself I’m okay today. Relatively okay. But I’m not, I guess. My body tells a different story. I’m feeling the now-familiar feelings of anxiety: a shortness of breath, a flutter in my chest, a pain in my neck, and antsiness that won’t be shaken, walked, or fidgeted out of my limbs that seem to hum with energy that is not feeling positive. My stomach is a little out of whack, too. I tend to feel my nerves in my gut first.
I have learned by now that these are the signs of emotional stress that is under the surface. If I am unaware, or I’m aware but am not actively acknowledging that I’ve got emotions simmering, it will come out in my body.
I’m not trying especially to be okay, nor am I trying to manufacture any particular feeling in response to this triad of days that constitute the 1-year milestone of A’s passing. If I felt the need for a good cry, I’d cry. I’m not afraid to sob; I’m well practiced by now, and in fact have shed a few tears today, as I have every day for the last week. But that’s not what’s coming.
I guess in writing that, I have my answer. If I’m going to authentically be with my feelings, then this collection of symptoms is what I have to be with. I can’t fix it anymore than I can fix any emotional response, particularly those I have regarding my loss. I can’t fix it other than to name it and hope that, in acknowledging it, I won’t feel the need to plague myself further.
The fact of the matter is, today is no different than the days of the last week or month or several months, in emotional terms. I still miss him. I still am doing the best I can. I’m still laughing when I can and crying when I must.
This is life.