Thursday, March 27, 2014

Searching for the Via Media While Falling Headlong

Dear John,
 
The best description I've heard of today is that something is coming down and whatever it is, is wet. Jethro wouldn't go out this morning because it was sleeting. It rained when I drove to work. It was sleeting and snowing when I got Kathy's mail. It rained on my way home. There's been something coming down almost all day, and the most we can say is that it's all been wet.
 
I'm tired of trying to corral my emotions. They've been all over the place since you died. Trying to get a grip on them is akin to herding cats. Part of the time I'm happy and grateful for all the years that I had you. Part of the time I feel like my life is over and there is no point in my continued existence. It seems to be a special kind of bipolar that is unique to widowhood.
 
There has to be a middle ground somewhere, a healthy and admirable via media. I'd love to be able to get my attention away from my emotions, but they're still too strong - they throw tantrums until I have to pay attention to them.
 
I don't feel like I have my feet under me yet. I probably look like I do - I do all the right things and behave properly and all. But I still feel like I'm in that controlled fall that happens when you're running down a steep hill and you're just managing to connect your feet with the ground in time to keep from falling headlong.
 
All of this appears to be normal, if acutely uncomfortable. The only question I have is how long this lasts. Will I someday get my feet under me and achieve emotional equilibrium? Or will I always feel like I do now, just maybe a bit more accustomed to it? It is too soon to have KMN tattooed across my forehead?

The good times are when the pain backs off a little and I get a break from it. The bad times are still unbearable. But I am bearing it. Like the giraffe in the photo, I look ungainly and feel like I'm coming apart, but I'm still upright and standing. I guess I'm being normal again. And I'm thankful to know that I'm not alone. I have a herd of widowfriends to keep me company and look after me, and know the truth about me without launching an intervention.

Pray for me and all my widowfriends, that we continue to keep from falling headlong, and that one day we will get the hang of this. Love you more than life,
Joan.
 


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