I didn’t want to get out of bed this morning. I did. But, I feel… empty. Like I’ve got nothing to give at this moment. Even as I write I’m not even sure where I’m going with it. Actually, I don’t want to go anywhere – I just want to sit and stare and let time pass me by. Ug. Yuckyuckyuckyuck. (And what I really want to say starts with a different letter.) I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to exercise or work in my shop or do the dishes. I don’t want to feed the dog, or do laundry. Anything. Yuckyuckyuckyuck.
What is this? Part of the grief process, knowing his birthday is coming up this week? Depression? Or perhaps just a cop out? Yuckyuckyuckyuck.
People say we’re supposed to be gentle with ourselves, especially after the loss of a child. Well, I’ve never been good at that. Actually, one of the things I’m working on incorporating into my daily routine is self-affirmation, a new year’s resolution of sorts. It’s very simple. I look at myself in the mirror, look into my own eyes and say out loud “I love you.” It’s hard. So far, I’ve cried most days.
But regardless of all I’ve spewed forth today, I’ve always been a firm believer in “Action Breads Motivation.” That’s one of my go-to mantras.
Well, I guess I better go to it.