Good Days and Bad Days

I am not a morning person at the best of times. Since T left on 17th August, quite frankly I haven't wanted to get out of bed at all on some mornings. These are the bad days, when a great weight of grey depression presses down on me and everything just seems so pointless. Luckily for me, staying in bed is not an option, as the animals need feeding and letting out of their houses whether I feel like it or not. Dragging myself up and out feels like a Herculean task at such times, yet there is no doubt that doing so is better in the long-run for my sanity and my mood.

Even so, some days have passed in a tearful haze. Compared to this, I have found the angry days much easier to cope with. Although at times my anger has burned so white-hot I feared it would consume me, self-righteous fury feels much better than soul-sucking depression and despair!

Luckily, my brain is also involved, and I know, even if I can't always feel it, that these shifting emotions are all part of the process of coping, healing and moving on. The five stages of grief are said to be Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance, all of which I have experienced to some degree or another in the last week and a half. I expect to continue moving back and forth through them for quite some time to come, before I move fully into Acceptance. But for now, it helps to know they are normal, and to let them come and go.

It hasn't all been doom and gloom, though. I have been blessed with intervals of normality, working in the garden, soaking in the bath with a good book or talking with friends, family and neighbours. Occasionally the sun has come out, which seems to help enormously! I have been trying to self-care by getting enough sleep and eating healthily (although admittedly there has been more than one chocolate binge...). Music has helped too, either cheerful, dance-y stuff, or Kirsty MacColl's wry, funny observations on life and love. And I have found Alanis Morissette's 'You Oughta Know' at full volume astonishingly therapeutic! Occasionally the universe has sent little surprise gifts, such as yesterday, when I found these begonias uprooted and dumped by the roadside, presumably by someone clearing out their summer bedding plants. I thought the poor things looked like they still had plenty of life in them and deserved a second chance, so I brought them home and potted them up.

But more than anything I have been cheered and heartened by the love and care shown me by friends, family and the blogging community. As well as the lovely messages of support people left here after my last post, people have been phoning, emailing and sending cards/letters to let me know they are thinking of me. Many have offered to come and stay, to hold my hand or help me with the work here Halfway Up a Hill, or offered me their own living space as a 'bolt-hole' should I need one. Friends locally have stopped by with gifts of food in case I wasn't eating properly and taken me out on day trips to get away from it all. And today I received a lovely, lovely gift from my friend Paul, which touched me so much I cried and laughed all at once. You can see it here.

Thank you all so much. Your love, kindness and support has helped immeasurably. This is a hard time for me, but at the same time I know just how lucky I am to have such wonderful people around me.