Monday, 24 November 2014

The Ebb & Flow

I went back to work on Friday. It was awful. I felt so overwhelmed. Like the walls were closing in on me. Customers didn't know about my Dad, I knew that that would be the case. I guess I just hoped everyone would know so that I wouldn't have to talk about it. Or that people wouldn't complain about things that just didn't matter to me. That I wouldn't have to pretend to be OK when all I wanted to to was scream. Everyone just went on with their life when mine came to a crashing halt. That is difficult to accept. That life will and must go on. Everyone is just "themselves" but not me,  I am a different person on a day to day basis. I am sad and indifferent about many things. I have a different outlook I am numb. But thankfully I am also still funny, I can find beautiful things to smile about, I can laugh. Then a wave of grief crashes into me and I am back to the hard stuff. I can see that there will be an ebb & flow to this but I am struggling. There are days when I am so exhausted by all of it I can barely form thoughts. Friday was one of those days and I wasn't sure what to expect at work. I got in my car at the end of the night and burst. All the emotion I bottled up at work came flooding out. I cried the whole way home. I yelled in my car. I got into bed and crashed. 
Then I hosted my Project Life crop on Saturday night and it was completely the opposite. I was ok, I had a good time. I kept busy to keep my thoughts at bay. I spoke to friends about my Dad and didn't break down. I got hugs and sweet wishes. I even made a new friend. I can say that I was sick to my stomach to go to that shift but once I got there and saw a room of familiar faces I slowly eased out of the sickness. I hope every shift won't be like that but I suspect it may. Much like my days that are "one step at a time" I think working will be the same. Facing people and "moving on" will be the same. The ebb & flow is hard. Feeling broken is hard. Not knowing what to expect next it hard. 
Today I am typing this out, drinking coffee in my jammies, and watching Anna play play doh. It is nice and feels "normal" in a place of unbalance and I am incredibly grateful for those moments. 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Love you Nadine!
It's a hard path, I know, having walked it with both my mom and my dad. I'm thinking of you every day and I'm so glad you understand the process - the ebb and flow; the moments of normal and the moments of extreme pain. You have many people who love you. I hope we can all have a little part helping you on this hard journey. Hug Miss Anna for me!
Love, Nancy