Yesterday was a bleak day, one of those days where it’s hard to get going and everything just feels too much. Just trying to get myself going takes supreme effort. On days like that I usually head out for a longer dog walk, and that can help me feel better, being outside with nature and getting my body moving, but yesterday out walking I fell hard landing with all my body weight on one knee. There was no one there to pick me up, the pain was shocking and made me cry. I had to get myself up and carry on walking. It was almost exactly what I’d done 6 months earlier, and I’d caused significant damage to my body with painful hip, knee and shoulder. I’ve spent 6 months having treatments – physio, homeopathy, massage and acupuncture trying to relieve the pain and now I’ve done it again!
It seems like a metaphor for my life, when I fall there is no one there to catch me. I am all alone and have to pick myself up.
I realise I’ve been deeply affected by the decision to sort out Paul’s clothes last weekend, and get rid of them all. Although my children came and helped me do it, it was very emotional and felt like another final closing on the life we shared together. It’s taken me 15 months since he died to get round to this and I’d felt it was time to move on, but it was far more grueling than I had anticipated and I’ve felt very low all week. Taking the last bags to the charity shop was difficult and several times I wanted to open them and keep some more items.
On days like yesterday, when I feel really isolated and lonely, I know that there are many people out there who love and care for me, but the harsh reality is that through the fog of despair it’s almost impossible to ask for help. Grief is isolating, you feel so terribly alone but you can’t reach out when you are in that place. The overwhelming sense of loss takes over and just putting one foot in front of another feels like an enormous task.