Adjusting Can Be Arduous

If I thought it was odd being home alone when the boys were out before the cat went to kitty heaven, it is downright awful now. Finding it hard to focus on any one thing before I'm distracted wondering if they are ok and missing my fur baby. I know things will settle down and resume a more normal vibe eventually, but the crap in between now and then sucks.

It occurred to me earlier that part of this discomfort is that I don't often spend this kind of 'quality' time alone with my thoughts. Typically, if I don't like what's going on in my head, I just change up what I'm doing or take in a change of scenery. Tonight I decided it was time to stay in and stop trying to avoid the way I'm feeling. I have to say I don't like it one bit.

A lot of intense events in a short period of time can shake the surest of footing. I've never been the let go and let happen type; half of the noise in my head is just me reminding myself to ride things out and they will pass. Sitting here with no television or music, no background noise except for my fingers tapping on the keyboard and the ringing in my left ear...sometimes silence really is loud.

I do feel fortunate that I am able to redirect myself as well as I do; that positive news still finds it's way into my awareness. I may not be close to reconciling all the sad events I have been touched by recently, but I'm not so mired in the finality of it all to miss the good things happening to my friends, family, and all around me. I might not be able to recall the feelings of excitement or joy down the road when someone recalls a memorable moment from this time, but I will be able to remember it. I suppose I could say that I am currently in a state of conscious observation, rather than actively involved.

I've been in this place a few times before, but I'm not really much better at it. When I stop to think about that, grief, or the processing of grief isn't something I really want to become comfortable with. It isn't suppose to be easy or make immediate sense. It is suppose to be raw and disorienting; grief is upheaval and despair that varies in depth. The more invested in what or who was lost, the more bereft the road to adjusting. I am still here, and I feel every ounce of the void the emptiness my losses has created, but I wouldn't know the pain if I could not still feel all the life existing around me.