I haven't blogged here much the last month. I have been so miserable I haven't wanted to inflict it on anyone. I would never have believed that I could still be feeling this screwed up nearly three years after the Golfer's death, but I am. In fact, I feel worse now than I did at the beginning. But that is a good sign, at least I hope it is.
In the first couple of years, I was focussed on surviving, proving to myself and the world that I could manage on my own. There were lots of new things to learn, new challenges and also, let's be honest, the novelty of having no-one to answer to. I didn't have time to think about the reality of it all. Hell, I didn't let myself think about the reality of it all. Now I find I am beginning to thaw out, I'm raising my head for the first time in three years and I'm saying "Shit! How the hell did I get here? I don't like this. Can I go back now please?"
In this respect, I don't think my situation is much different from people who have been through divorce. It's the same feeling (I would think) of a life plan torn up and of the unpalatable choice of starting out all over again or of clinging to what is left of the old life. Neither is appealing.
For the first time since he died, I have been ill. That doesn't help the mood but, more importantly, it feels as if my body is telling me that it's had enough of all this bravery and stiff-upper-lippedness and that it wants to have a damn good tantrum.
All this seems to be heralding a new phase in my life. I am, for the first time, unbearably lonely. After two years of my house being my safe haven, now it feels like a prison, and a pretty sad one at that. I'm only really happy when I'm with other people. I even found myself crying when friends went away this weekend. (I have rarely cried since he died.) And I'm back with a counsellor - mainly because I'm scared that I'll cover up all this new pain as I am used to doing, and I don't think I should be doing that. But this is all good, I am certain. I think it marks the end of my grief process (or at least the beginning of the end) and the re-emergence of a Puddock, blinking as she steps back out into the sunlit lanes of society. I hope so!
I'm still not at all certain that I want to leave behind those thirty years that I spent with the Golfer. I'm not sure how you move ahead into another path, into new relationships without nullifying the past. It's going to be an interesting next few steps, that's for sure.