Dragging

Yes, it's May again. And I'm still here, though obviously not writing all that often. I've all but stopped writing in my personal hardcopy diary. Stopped a while ago, not sure why. But am feeling the need to write it in again. I know it's there for me if I ever want it.

This past weekend was Mother's Day. My husband worked his usual Saturday and Sunday overnight shifts, which meant I spent Sunday as I always do, grocery shopping, cooking, doing laundry, and keeping the kids from going upstairs and waking up their dad. The grocery store was full of dads picking up cakes, flowers, and balloons for their wives. I was a little annoyed, though I knew there wasn't anything we could do about my husband's schedule and Mother's Day is a holiday created by Hallmark, right? Just to sell cards?

Tomorrow is my birthday. I took the day off from work, though in past years, I haven't. Who wants to work on their birthday, right? The plan is for a bike ride (on my new bike) with my husband, then he'll make me breakfast (Eggs Benedict, particularly time-consuming to make), and take me to lunch. Nothing big. I'm just glad to not be working.

Ever since Sunday I've felt like I'm dragging myself around, body, mind, and heart. Next Wednesday will be 5 years since my girl passed away. Once horrible May is finally over, I get to look forward to my first follow-up mammogram since my surgery and radiation. I feel SO heavy I can't even describe it.

May started out just fine. We had my daughter's birthday party on May 3. My in-laws were here for it, and the kids did really well with them. May 4 I did my first (and possibly only) duathlon. It was a lot of fun. I signed up for it because I wanted something to look forward to in May. Now I'm wishing it was at the end of May, because I'm mostly dreading the next couple of months.

June marks not only the anniversary of my mammogram but also my biopsy, and then of course I had surgery last July. Like my daughter's death, I was maybe cushioned by shock, or inertia, through all of that last year. Now I'm having that sort of horrified anxiety, did all that really happen? And getting sick to my stomach thinking about it.

It's over, I'm safe. That's what the therapist used to tell me when I would go in for grief counseling. And I'm pretty good at telling myself that, talking myself through whatever. I just wish this heavy feeling would go away! I've joined some local running groups. Tonight is a workout at a high school track with one group. I've gone the last couple of weeks and enjoyed it. Wasn't planning to go tonight, but my neighbor/friend is expecting me to. I'm not sure whether running will help pull me out of this semi-stupor or if I'll have trouble picking my feet up fast enough to actually run. I signed up for an "adventure run" tomorrow night, which sounded fun at the time. Now I feel like I'm not going to be able to enjoy it or anything else this month. The members of one of the running groups will be at tomorrow's event, and they know it's my birthday. I'm hoping to focus on just that.

A friend of mine suggested (back when my daughter died) that maybe I should change my birthday. She said it again earlier this week when I told her I was feeling so heavy. Honestly, that never appealed to me. It seems like more work than it's worth, and there will always be someone who doesn't go along with it. Most likely, my parents, who still never mention the death anniversary of their granddaughter.


As people told me, it doesn't get easier, you just get better at living with it. But sometimes it is a little harder.