Yesterday, I felt really good. Now, I realize I felt too good. I had successfully accomplished the hardening-of-the-heart concept that I so tactfully call "pretending that the past two weeks didn't happen and smiling like I'm not broken inside."
I had woken up somewhat refreshed, having actually slept the night before. Yes, I had the assistance of a sleeping pill, but who cares. Then I had an extremely productive day at work and chose to get into the office early. I found a therapist in-network who I will be seeing for the first time tonight. She specializes in bereavement, grief, depression and anxiety. Check. Plus, she works in my building. Double check. Then I went to hot yoga with my mom. Hot yoga is my new thing because it requires focus and relaxation. There's no time for thinking about what's going on in the rest of the world, outside that overheated studio. M and I cooked a delicious steak and brussel sprout dinner and watched episode after episode of Dexter. I went to bed feeling calm and dare I say it...happy?
Today is a whole different story. I had a dream last night that we were at my Uncle's cleaning out the house. It was vivid. I could even smell the house. M was there helping us go through his desk. We had taken the drawers out of his desk and put them on the kitchen floor to go through his things. And as I touched the papers, I started to cry. M tried to console me, but I just curled up in a ball on the cold kitchen floor tiles, sobbing uncontrollably. In the middle of the tears, I realized this isn't just a dream, this is real life. Then I woke up with that suffocating sadness in my chest. My dream wasn't just a dream. He is really gone. We haven't gone through any of things yet, but I know that we'll have to do that soon.
I went to the gym to run for the first time since his death. I've been avoiding running because running is my thinking time. And I really don't want to think about the truth of this life. I ran 5 hard miles and cried at the end smack in the middle of the row of treadmills. But it didn't help. Normally, running makes me feel better. Right now isn't normal though. I felt empty at work and really, really sad. Distracting myself with my list of fun things to do didn't help either. I just wanted to go home and cry.
What a difference a day can make, huh. Denying the reality that he's gone may have worked yesterday, but I feel it too much today. I feel the pain of him being gone. And I miss him.