Haze

It’s been roughly 5 months.

The past couple of weeks have been really hard. Draining. Challenging.

The “haze” that came after the shock of Monas loss has begun to clear and it’s really making it clear just how much work I have to do to get back to any sense of “normalcy”.

To be honest, I don’t even think “normalcy” is a possibility now.

People keep telling me “it takes time”.

I get it. It’s a natural thing to say. When you get injured physically, the body goes to work and cells do their thing and wounds heal. Maybe you’re left with a scar to remind you, but in most cases, unless it’s something grievous you’re going to be OK in the long run.

I wish the brain worked that way.

I wish the heart worked that way.

It’s wishful thinking at best to think that somehow after some “time” I’m going to somehow miraculously be able to accept and be “OK” with Mona being gone.

The new “Normal” is pretty bleak.

I’m afraid of being happy right now. Afraid of feeling happiness because the CRASH of coming down from that happiness is incredibly painful.

The “haze” blunted that up and down cycle. It was a numbing agent that just kinda normalized everything into being neither too happy or too sad.

Now I’m faced with moments of “normal” when I’m busy working on something and my brain is dedicated to that task.

I’ve been burning the candle at both ends to keep my brain engaged in that mode because it’s in the moments of downtime and silence now that the haze is gone that I find myself intensely missing Mona and even more intensely doubting how I am able to continue this cycle moving forward.

Doubts and lots and lots of second-guessing.

Insane thoughts creep in. Thoughts that have no place or basis in reality.

I know we made all the right choices yet my brain wants to hold SOMETHING accountable for Mona being gone.

Cancer is a foe that I can SAY I blame…but for some reason, my mind and heart won’t accept that blame as good enough.

It wants to blame someone. It’s mad at someone.

That someone is me.

Even though we made the choices that led to her  miracle of survival for so long.

Even though I did everything in my power to find solutions, make her comfortable, and to give her a life while cancer was robbing her of her time with us.

I blame me.

There’s nowhere else for this anger to go to.

The worst part is I know that’s insane, but it doesn’t stop it from happening.

And that’s coupled with the looks on our friend’s faces when they see me now. I remind them of Mona. Which triggers them grieving. I’m the harbinger of sadness.  It’s a completely natural human reaction, and I never get mad or angry at this.

Now that the haze is gone, I feel this more acutely.

It’s not getting better.

It’s getting more painful.

And I know as the holidays and her birthday approach….as much as I can tell myself it’s “just another day”…that’s not going to work.

This road is twisty…and with the haze gone I can see just how terrifying the road is…cliffs on either side and no idea what’s around the next curve.

And I’m getting pretty tired behind the wheel…

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