So yesterday was a terrifying day for me, but a triumph nonetheless. I went back to work for the first time in almost a month.
I can't honestly say I enjoyed it- I'm glad it was a 6 hour shift instead of an 8, but I made myself do it and felt better for having accomplished it. I couldn't believe how exhausted I was driving home; I hadn't done much physical labor, and it was all indoors. The medicine has to do with it I'm sure.
It was also a sad day. I'm oversensitive to sad things right now, and my co-worker (and friend) husband has passed away last Thursday from Alzheimer's disease. She's doing so well, but it broke my heart anyhow. I had to fight off crying the rest of the day after she happened to mention that Vern's funeral was on Wednesday. I was blown away~ I had no idea that it had even happened. Truthfully she admit's to being relieved that "God finally brought him home and he doesn't have to suffer anymore". I understand~ as a child I watched 2 grandparents die from cancer and it's horrible. You do feel relief even though you ache inside, because they don't have to hurt anymore.
So when I was sweeping the floor I happened upon a baby gecko hidden amongst the violin cases on the floor (I work in a music store), so I stopped and picked him up. I thought maybe I could revive him- his eyes were still clear and he was limp. I rushed to the sink and tried to force a drop of water into his mouth, but he wasn't breathing. I took a deep breath and looked at him closely, realizing he had starved to death because he was all hard angles. I started to cry as I laid him down on a paper towel and put his body in the trash can. I felt helpless, angry, stupid and full of pain at such a seemingly small thing. There was nothing I could do, but my mind kept saying, "If you had only found him sooner he would've made it…it's your fault".
I had to argue with my brain- it was NOT my fault, and I knew better deep down. It was sad, but it had nothing to do with me. What was wrong with me that I was crying over a dead baby gecko?!
Last night and this morning I shifted into anger/irritation mode, getting critical about everything in life. But I've come down to what's underneath it- the melacholia that never really leaves me, just comes in different sized waves.
I'm trying to be forgiving of myself today. Yesterday I put a lot of stress on myself by going to work even though I didn't feel ready (but let's be honest I'll never feel really ready) and then the added hurt caused by my friend's loss and being unable to give her anything to help her through it. I hate feeling helpless, powerless- and at it's worst, that's what I feel. No control over anything.
I hope you all are having a better day than I am. Mine will get better…it will just take some time. But I still refuse to lose the satisfaction of knowing I accomplished something I didn't think I could do right now~ face people and pretend to be okay.
Take care all, and my best wishes to you.