I feel like it takes all my effort lately just to exist day to day. I go to work, I go to the gym much less often because of work. I am paying my bills, keeping the house marginally clean, and I'm getting groceries instead of falling prey to fast food.
I'm reaching out to friends, still, so that I have things to do during the week and on the weekends. My heart is not in it, I'm not getting emotional sustenance from it.
I buy the past fresh flowers at the grocery store and bring them home and sort out the stems that are still good. Because I need flowers, but somehow in my mind I'm not worth the cost of the fresh ones.
I fear the coming holidays. I fear the week off work between Christmas and New Years just bumbling around this house with the dog.
I simply cannot bring myself to pick up a paintbrush because something that is supposed to bring me joy will be too painful right now. I know I can't do it, yet.
I've stopped wearing my diamond engagement ring, I'm just wearing the band, because one day at work I was in the bathroom and looked down at my hand and burst into tears looking at my grandmother's beautiful diamond. Wasted. Bitter. Worth nothing now. The meaning is gone from it.
I'm just floating along, waiting to feel differently. I'm impatient in it.
I've lost five more pounds without even trying. All my jeans baggy on me, falling off my hips. Normally this would feel like a good thing, but I cannot afford new clothes right now. I feel thin and....empty. I'm not hungry until I'm past hungry, then I'm ravenous.
I never know when the tears will hit. In the car, at the store, at work, watching TV. It comes on for no apparent reason, the sadness of it all. The loneliness of an empty house, not a home anymore, just a house. Cold and silent.
The days are so short, that doesn't help. I actually hate this time of year. The stress of the holidays. And now the Christmas cards are coming in the mail, for Mr. and Mrs. Jeckyll. The distant relatives that don't know yet. What do I say when I send cards back? Just write my name, have my name alone on the return address? Is that enough?
It's only been five weeks since he left. It feels like a lifetime, but it also feels so short. In only five weeks we're already making plans to divorce, after 18 years. It's too fast, too soon. I can't help but feel like this is a mistake in so many ways, so I want to hold off until I'm sure. Until I'm done crying over it. Until I'm living again instead of just existing.