Tuesday, 3 June 2008

Lost and Found on an Alien Ocean

It's only lately that I have felt that I am becoming a whole person again. A Psychologist said recently that it is okay to be 'lost' and not know what your path is... rather, it is a natural way of thinking your way through a difficult period in your life in order to come to a decision on what to do with your life now it has changed. Having read his article, I feel a lot better about being tossed around on an alien ocean of emotions, not knowing where I belong in society any more and not knowing where or what my true path is. I am starting to like myself again; starting to think positively about my life on this planet; starting to feel part of the human race again. My self-esteem is slowly and gradually coming back, although I can't pinpoint the moment this started happening or why. I have also lost weight, and don't know why, because I haven't consciously been dieting, although food has become less important to me lately. I haven't cried for a good few weeks now, and I can leap out of bed in the mornings without that heavy feeling of 'what's the point'? I know that I will have a relapse and will, at some point, give in to 'old' feelings of loss, uselessness and being rudderless. Having read that grief can usually take two years before a feeling of slight hope emerges and helps one on the road to integration again, has made me feel just a tad normal. If only I hadn't listened to all the novice advice given to me after the funeral such as: "It will take a year", "you will have sunshine in your life again", "you are still young enough to find another man" - yuk!

It will be three years in September. I am only just emerging from my ashes of grief into a dawn of normality where I can think about ME; about who I want to be and what I want to do. Although the 'what I want to do' bit is still hazy. I want to work for myself; study archeaology, psychology and philosophy. I want to laugh out loud and meet new people. I want to be alive and vital again... and this doesn't mean searching on a Dating Website... been there, done it and didn't like the results!

I feel safe now. No-one is trying to take my home away from me, (although his 'ex' tried to, just after he died). I don't have 'grieving widow' stamped upon my forehead as I first thought, and I no longer feel as if I am on the scrapheap, waiting to die and join my lovely man. He has been integrated, absorbed into my being and become part of me for ever. I can look at photos without crying, but instead, I smile at the good memories.

If I am moving on... then it is good. If I am deluding myself, then I hope I continue the delusion for it makes me happier and more optimistic.

I can understand why some women take their own lives after their loved one dies; and I can understand why some go a little mad. I have considered both options but have chosen to live and try to be as sane as possible. It ain't easy!

Sunday, 1 June 2008

Muffins, Green Gym and Indiana Jones

Armed with homemade almond and chocolate muffins and a large selection of cheese straws, the boys and I went to work at the Green Gym venue: Heythrop Park. They dug up nettles and pruned bushes and shrubs after having health and safety instuction for all tools. I thought I would have sole responsibility for their efforts, but, they worked alongside other members, joining in conversation and willingly loading the wheelbarrow and doing whatever needed doing. I was really pleased and proud. My daughter reckons the cakes bribed the others into submission, and can't believe that the same two boys (who will never help her in the garden, and never, ever want to tidy their bedrooms), had achieved so much and with enthusiasm, asking on the journey home, "When can we go to the Green Gym again Nana ?"

The following day I took them to the hospital with me; I have been waiting six months for an injection in my left buttock - supposedly an attempt to quell my fasiculating left leg. Boys had books and comics as they sat in the waiting room and I was shown into a mini-surgery. The doctor spoke to me in broken (little or non-existent) English, luckily the nurse translated. The outcome: No injection as no-one had informed me at any point that it would be into my spine and that I would not be able to drive home; (I had just paid £3 for parking). Back at Reception I was put on the Cancellation List for the earliest next appointment... 15th January, 2009! I shall re-visit my GP and ask for an alternative treatment... something that can be achieved this year perhaps?

Yesterday we all went to the cinema and saw the new Indiana Jones film... absolutely great! We thoroughly enjoyed it... Well done Harrison Ford... for at 65 he looked fit and attractive and made me laugh.

Finally, my highlight of a week of child-minding - being told by a ten-year old boy that I look about 35.