I’m not sleeping well, again. For a while there my sleeping pattern was almost back to normal, but now I find I don’t sleep at all without the sleeping pill. I’m going back to the doctor, see what he says. Actually, I’m pretty sure I know what he’s going to say – we need to up the anti-depressant. I’m committed to doing whatever will help me get through the grieving process, but *sigh* I really wish I could wake up a year from now and have it all behind me. Well duh, right? Who wouldn’t take that option if it were available?
I’ve suffered from insomnia most of my adult life, and I’m a pro at functioning while sleep-deprived. Rather, I was a pro. Now, without a good night’s sleep I am a shambling wreck. The professional tells me it’s more important than ever to get sleep. Grieving takes so much out of me, my resources are so low – without rest, I start the day at the breaking point. I know it’s going to be a bad day when I start crying before I get out of bed.
Last night I didn’t sleep well even with the sleeping pill. I kept waking up, and woke up tired to start the day. Buffy hurt herself at daycare yesterday – tore one of her footpads. She was limping and looking very sorry for herself, and that’s what I was thinking about as I went to sleep. I had awful dreams all night. I’m terrified of losing her – I don’t think I can take another loss right now. So of course I dreamed about it all night. Another trip to the vet, although i can’t imagine he’ll do anything more than snip off the hanging skin flap – and I’m sure I’ll pay through the nose for the privilege.
Which reminds me…I feel as if I need to start figuring out what’s next. I’m not actually doing anything about it, but I feel as if I should…my savings won’t last forever. The professional says that’s a good sign, the fact that I’m thinking about it. I guess I’m making progress… a stumbling, lurching sort of progress, but I’ll take what I can get.
I have to acknowledge here I know how very fortunate I am that I can take all the time I need. Stephen took care of me in life, and he’s still taking care of me.
When all else fails, keep writing! It takes time Cece.
Love you,
Auntie
I love you too Auntie! Thank you for reading.
well each step forward, no matter how many you take back, is a step forward towards welllness….keep it up and you will be there….wherever there is
Each day that you write what your feeling is a step in the healing process. Keep writing sis and don’t stop until you feel it is time to stop no matter how long it takes.
Love you Sis
Thank you for commenting Sis, it lets me know you’re reading my story. I will continue writing.
I can identify with some of what you are saying in this blog. The one thing that stands out is your courage. You may not see it as brave, but I do. You are writing raw, open wounds. The healing is slow. It will be slow. I’m so astounded by this blog. Thank you doesn’t seem like the right thing to say but it’s the only thing that comes to mind. My loss wasn’t a lover, but my mother who was my best friend. 10 years, no almost 11 now, I still miss her. But I have gotten past the sobbing in the parking lot stage. You will too.
I’m so very sorry that you lost your mother. Writing this is cathartic for me, and it’s my hope it will help others who come across it. Thank you so very much for your kind words.