Some days it’s just hard to get out and find ways to fill up all the empty space in order to crowd out the loneliness. It is still a rare occurance for me to have a day that is not filled up with all sorts of “must do’s”, but today happened to be one of those rare, empty days.
I erringly assumed that without a slew of appointments scheduled I would be able to stay calm and relaxed and enjoy some quiet time. I went for a mani / pedi, but surprisingly that did not fill the void. There was a time in the not so distant past when a good mani / pedi had me on a high for a solid three days. Four, if I followed it up with a glass of wine, and five if I went with a good friend. Sadly, not so anymore.
I wonder if I will be searching forever for ways to fill the void?
I came home and did some half hearted puttering in the garden, but that didn’t do it either. I went for a haircut but spent most of the appointment trying to stifle a panic attack so that I didn’t look like a complete crazy woman in front of a hairdresser I have never met before.
Truth be told, part way through the appointment I was eyeing up the clippers and contemplating pulling a Britney Spears, circa 2007.
I came home from the hairdresser and found my office floor finished, minus the baseboards …
… but even the new floors didn’t make it better.
I poured a bath so that I could hide and spend some alone time with my anxiety without scaring Raegan, who seems to have taken over the mothering roll in this house. (I’m guessing my shrink would not think that was cool.) I thought that perhaps a good cry in the tub might solve the problem, but the tears, much like my sanity, were also not to be found. WTF.
Tomorrow morning I will wake up and remember that 365 days earlier I woke up on a sunny April 26th and wrote Thinking Out Loud – Part One. I distinctly remember thinking that Ben was going to die. And soon. That I was never going to see seventy years old with him. But at that particular moment I still had him. Blink. He’s gone. I’m jealous of me from one year ago.
I have to work in the morning, and I do not want to go. How do I possibly explain that it is the anniversary of the day I woke up with Ben’s arm stretched out towards me, and how it is the anniversary of the day I snuggled right in?
I do not want to get out of bed tomorrow. Maybe not the next day either.
I’m sick of “life goes on.” Because Ben’s does not, does it?