Over the past month, doing just about anything has been difficult.
Waking up. Taking a shower. Leaving the house. Coming back to the house. Somedays, just breathing.
At times, I scold myself for being overdramatic. Seriously, it’s been (very soon) seven months. Really?? The laying on the floor under the covers non-functioning crap again??Sigh. Get your self together.
Other times, I remind myself that I have 29 years of life with my sister to sort through. I still find little things. The most minuet, unimportant thing. A post-it with her handwriting. Not an important message or a declaration of love. Just a post-it with a time and name. Then the water works start. I fall back down the rabbit hole.
I went to the doctor to get a different anti-depressant. Then I found a difference in my right breast. So, off to a few doctors appointments I went. My husband came with. He was super supportive. Very involved, loving,etc. BUT, he isn’t my sister. He just isn’t her. For a minute, that made it worse.
The anger came back as hot a touch to searing frying pan. So intense. So unbearable. I don’t like being angry. I don’t like yelling. I don’t like feeling lost. And that’s what it was (and still is). I’m lost.
In my personal case, right now, I just don’t know who I am. I don’t recognize who I’ve become. Not yet. Things I liked to do, I don’t anymore. I thought it was because I was depressed. However, some of the things, I didn’t really like to do in the first place. I did it with my sister, for my sister. Now without her, certain things don’t hold a meaning for me anymore.
It’s difficult to pull back together after someone dies. Grief changes you. It’s not just one of those things people say. I think that’s not something that is focused on enough during grieving. The changes it makes to you. The way you view the world is different. The way you react to the world is different.
Everything is different.
It’s difficult to adjust.