Not There Yet

No, not quite yet. It has been 9 days since we said good-bye. Nine days too many. I find myself uninterested in much of anything. Even food, and I’m a fat girl who likes to eat. I do eat, by the way, but nothing tastes good. Nothing even sounds good.

My step-mom said we just have to Fake It Till We Make it. I try, but it’s too damned hard. I know this isn’t what my father would want. He was so full of life and love. I know I should do better in his memory, but I cannot.

I’m not there yet.

I am, however, writing. Just a smidge. It’s hard. I love writing, but all the joy is gone from it.

Truth be told, the joy is gone from everything. I hope the pain recedes soon. We will bury his ashes next week. Maybe then I can forge ahead.

Until then, I write and pretend it is as joyful today as it was before getting the call. I also pretend it means anything.

All that aside, I do intend to get back to more regular writing. It’s just… I’m not there yet. I appreciate your understanding.

I do, however, have some words to share since it is, once again, #FirstLineFriday and #FiveLineFriday

Stratford Clarion noticed the air of uncertainty hanging over the men in the dining area of White’s the moment he stepped into the room. The already weak sun was obscured further by shuttered windows and hazy clouds of smoke, for which he was grateful. The stirrings of a hangover clawed at his temples, setting his mood to match that of the others present.

Winding his way through the smoke-filled room, he picked up bits of the conversation. No one would meet his eye, but that was nothing new.

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3 thoughts on “Not There Yet

  1. Laura (PA Pict)

    “Fake it until you make it” is actually pretty sage advice but I think one needs to be further along in the grieving process to even be capable of going through the motions of normalcy. When one is still at the stage of shock, of searingly raw emotion and of the mind flitting between practicalities needing to be addressed and just wanting to shut down as a coping mechanism, it is impossible to even contemplate what normal once looked like in order to be able to replicate it and act normal out. However, there comes a stage in the journey through grief – this is based just on my own experiences obviously – where the old normal just becomes gradually replaced by the new normal and the new normal accepts and embraces the lost as being just part of the new you. I do hope that makes some semblance of sense. In short, don’t put too much pressure of expectation on yourself at this very early stage.

    Liked by 1 person

    Reply
    1. lauramichaela Post author

      I have very low expectations right now. Getting out of bed is a struggle as I already deal with depression.

      Some days are better than others, and that is what I look forward to: good days.

      Thank you for your words.

      Liked by 1 person

      Reply
      1. Laura (PA Pict)

        Then let that be baby step number one: work towards getting out of bed. Once that is accomplished without it feeling like a challenge, try step two which might be having a shower. So on and so forth. That is how I have had to deal with the crippling paralysis of grief: one step at a time and one foot in front of the other and never looking too far ahead because that seems insurmountable.

        Liked by 1 person

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