We are approaching the one month mark of Catherine's death and I feel like some of the fog is lifting. Everything has been very hazy and confusing the last month. Everything has been a struggle. Showering, cooking, cleaning, going to work, getting dressed, and just living.
Today was different. I only had one anxiety attack and it was during a meeting at work when I let my mind wander a bit (sorry, it was a boring moment). Work is my safe space and I love going in each day. Being distracted by a job that I love with people I love makes the day go by quickly. I seemed to be more focused today and laughter came easily. I felt like in some way I found my new groove. It felt different. The pain was there but not as intense.
The evening seemed to be different for me as well. I didn't dread coming home. The house wasn't in chaos. We had a change in plans for dinner and I didn't freak out. Max and I cooked macaroni and cheese together, Charlie and I made a taco salad for him, the baby happily ate the macaroni, and the kitchen was cleaned by yours truly. In coming out of my fog and haze, I realized that my stove was filthy. My stove is now cleaned and I even convinced Max to run the vacuum through the house. The baby cooperated and it was nice. No fighting. No drama. Just a calmer groove.
While I realize that this isn't permanent, it was a nice change. It was a brief respite from the grief and pain. It felt like the path to a new normal. Tomorrow could be totally different. But I'm grateful for this day.
Today was different. I only had one anxiety attack and it was during a meeting at work when I let my mind wander a bit (sorry, it was a boring moment). Work is my safe space and I love going in each day. Being distracted by a job that I love with people I love makes the day go by quickly. I seemed to be more focused today and laughter came easily. I felt like in some way I found my new groove. It felt different. The pain was there but not as intense.
The evening seemed to be different for me as well. I didn't dread coming home. The house wasn't in chaos. We had a change in plans for dinner and I didn't freak out. Max and I cooked macaroni and cheese together, Charlie and I made a taco salad for him, the baby happily ate the macaroni, and the kitchen was cleaned by yours truly. In coming out of my fog and haze, I realized that my stove was filthy. My stove is now cleaned and I even convinced Max to run the vacuum through the house. The baby cooperated and it was nice. No fighting. No drama. Just a calmer groove.
While I realize that this isn't permanent, it was a nice change. It was a brief respite from the grief and pain. It felt like the path to a new normal. Tomorrow could be totally different. But I'm grateful for this day.
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