Wednesday, April 15, 2009

A Sometime Scary

Sometimes, oftentimes really, it is very scary to be here-doing this. Not blogging. Definitely not blogging, because I haven't been doing enough of it for it to be the thing that hides inside the closet of my heart and head. It is scary to be doing "this". All of this. The moving, and selling of the old house (got *this close* to an offer, but no cigar), watching my son grow and, all the while, kind of being suspended in a way. A way in which I pretend that the days will just go on and on with James being 10. That there won't come a day in which he-rightfully- leaves the nest and I will be left with the empty spaces of a future that should have been two of us. What will I do? That is what scares me. In being honest with myself, and possibly incuring the wrath of the all knowing "Anonymous", I sometimes hope not to live so very long after my nest is empty. It is not grief I wish to deliver to my children, it is just the empty...the empty of not really wanting to contemplate things, or do things, venture out on things without the one who was supposed to be by my side.

Anway, these are the things that have kept me from blogging. These, and the infernal boxes that continue to scream out for unpacking or tossing or a mix of the two.

12 comments:

GR in DC said...

I'm sorry you feel that way. When my mind starts to go in that direction, I remind myself to live in the moment. I can only control how I am feeling right now, and sometimes I can't even control that! The future is too big, but this moment isn't. Living in the moment and concentrating on right now was the most helpful thing I learned through grief counseling.

Courtney said...

I agree with GR. Live for now, try not to think that far ahead. That being said, I'm pretty sure I'd be feeling the same way if I were in your shoes...{{{{HUGS}}}} to you today & everyday.

Sarah said...

I always wonder who I'll be once I'm done being the mom of little kids. Even having kids over the age of ten seems like another world to me! I think you always have to recreate yourself a bit each time one phase ends and another begins. But I know, you planned on having someone beside you through that recreating, and the alone part is awful. I'm so sorry.
I know it's a platitude, but really do just to try to think only of the day at hand. Even just the MOMENT at hand. There is nothing certain about the future, happiness, unhappiness, fortune, poverty, being alone or being in love, being here or being there... All we have is what we're doing right here and now, and all we can do is the best we can with what's at hand.
Hugs.

Anonymous said...

Here's "Anonymous" but with no wrath--

I just wanted to say that getting it out there is good for you. Keep venting and keep feeling like it is safe to vent. I have been very moved by reading your blog for the past almost year, and even though you don't know me, I'm rooting for you.

Post-traumatic stress syndrome therapy was highly beneficial to me. It's a very specific type of therapy without a lot of talk needed. The type I had seemed rather strange, with a lot of tapping on various parts of my face, etc., but I can attest to its effectiveness. You may want to seek out something like that.

It's hard to keep going some days, isn't it? But you are, and even if you don't believe it now, you WILL feel more curious and enthusiastic and interested in you and your purposes in life outside of being a mom.

Hugs,

Anon in Illinois

BetteJo said...

Not denying your feelings is good. You have to feel it to heal it. One foot in front of the other. :)

J said...

Perhaps (I hope) by the time James is grown and moves out, you will be ready to face a future without Leonard in it. I know it seems impossible now. I know it will be difficult nonetheless. But that is what I hope for you. My grandmother lost her first husband, and was able to go on. My step mother lost her first husband, and was able to go on. It was incredibly painful and difficult and the end of many dreams for both of them. Not all people are able to go on. I hope you can.

Nance said...

You've accomplished so very, very much already. It is proof that you can go on. You already have.

Bravery is sometimes just another kleenex.

Linda said...

Laura, eight years (or maybe longer than that) is so very,very far away. ALOT can happen in that amount of time, you know? I would hope that by then you will have been blessed with Nic giving you a grandchild or two....
I'm not trying in any way to discourage what you are feeling right now, but rather calling attention to the fact that there is hope and wonder everywhere. You may not feel it at the moment, but you have come so far. So,so far.

Sending hope and hugs your way.

Marshamlow said...

I think I understand what you are saying. I cannot tell you how often I think about the future and who I will be when the kids are out of the house. I have all these plans and dreams. I can understand how you need to mourn the loss of your future and your dreams too. I agree with the others who said take one day at a time for now. Maybe when you are ready you should start to think about adding some things to your day to day now that are selfish and fun for just you. Like a writing class or an art class. I am sending good wishes. You are very brave to be so honest.

artemisia said...

Allow yourself to feel what you feel right now, and allow yourself to feel what you feel tomorrow, whatever it may be.

Thinking of you.

Rach said...

So often, I still focus on the here and now. It is so much less painful than to contemplate the future. I understand.

Ronni said...

One breath at a time...