Last weekend started off with feeling like I no longer belonged to something I loved. Still love I guess. The rest of the weekend I fought to make my place again, I don’t think I 100% found it but I started to look at least. I, for once, knew what I was doing and even though the friendships/relationships have fallen to the wayside I’d got the conversations started again.
I worked myself to exhaustion. I hurt all over. I had a sense of accomplishment.
Now we’re back to Wednesday and MP asked me this morning if I thought the group was good for me because it has left me ragged after. I don’t know yet. It’s hard, it hurts and it’s scary. I dread Wednesdays more than Mondays. Wednesdays make me tired and nervous. Being in that room with the others takes me back to a place I’d rather never go again physically; which isn’t to say it’s less callous on my psyche.
I was watching Biggest Loser last night. This girl hugged her dad and I wept for a friend. KS, there is nothing anyone can do to bring your dad back but you know he will never really leave you. Every word, shared moment and memory are for you and him now. When you need to hug him just take a bit to remember anything about him until the corner(s) of your lips turn upward instead of down. I wish you a healed heart. xoxo
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