I Know It's Bad When I Keep Running Hamlet Soliloquies Through My Mind

[qos]

"I have of late--but
wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all
custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily
with my disposition that this goodly frame, the
earth, seems to me a sterile promontory. . .



For the past couple of months I've felt as if I've reached the "Acceptance" phase of my grieving for LM. His loss is no longer a sharp and constant pain. I'm used to his absence; it has become normal to me. I no longer spend hours a day dwelling on his death and all that I lost.

And yet. . . .

I can't say that I've fully accepted my own ongoing life.

I'm sure unemployment doesn't help.
For the past few weeks I've felt like I'm losing the battle with entropy.
My projects are stalled out, my spiritual life the tiniest trickle of energy.

It's hard to bring myself to care.

There is no joy in my life, and I don't know where or how to find it.

Some days it feels as if when LM left his body he took all my joy, all my capacity for joy, with him.

I no longer weep every day, or even every week. But I no longer sing, I seldom laugh.
I'm not happy.

I just am.

At the same time, I've been making some spiritual breakthroughs that hint at deeper, older issues which are finally surfacing for me to deal with. I'm certain that's part of what's making it hard right now. The issues are ones of restraint, of inhibition, of denial. I think I'm finally starting to face the roots of the semi-paralysis that has dogged me all my life. Unfortunately, the process seems to be exacerbating my desire to crawl into a den, tuck my head under my tail, and hope it will all just pass over me, or that I'll simply go into a deep sleep and be able to avoid it.

It's all tangled up together, and I am really, realy missing the energy and encouragement of my yang warrior-king.

[Who appears at my elbow, his eyebrow raised, when I write about him as if he is not here, not ready and willing to help me.]


And to go back to my original thought when I started this post: I not only have no joy in my life right now, part of me feels indifferent about ever experiencing joy again. Or maybe I'm just too afraid to expose myself to the implications of the lack, and end up grieving about that too. Or I'm afraid of what it will mean if I do experience joy without him in my life.


I don't like my life very much right now.

I haven't liked it much since he left me.

I feel like all I can do is keep moving forward, doing the best I can to live as richly as I can. I can not give in to the grief. I can not give in to the gray. I can not give in to entropy and the desire to take false refuge in slumber, in hibernation.


But gods, do I miss the feeling of his arms around me. . .

Comments

[nicanthiel.livejournal.com]

-hugs-

While I haven't lost anyone to death, I know what it feels like. There's just something about physicality that all the spiritual communion in the world can never replace.

[watcher457.livejournal.com]

*cuddles*

[starfrosting.livejournal.com]

Oh, J., this sounds really, really rough. I think you are right to recognize that you can't just rest in numbness, and I imagine the power you've forged through your practice is helping you slowly but surely, but still-- I can't imagine how you feel right now. And I still can't help but trust that you will pull through.

[margoeve.livejournal.com]

I can relate to a lot of this. Not the loss of your life partner, but the rest. The spiraling into entropy.

I've been dealing with my own journey to push past fear. I've read a few of your entries now and I feel like they could have been written by me.

I'm not sure where you live, but if you are around DC I'd love to chat over a tasty beverage of some kind.

[shadowandstar.livejournal.com]

Alas, I'm in Seattle -- otherwise I'd be more than happy to get together with you.

[sekhmetkare.livejournal.com]

I recognize that quote; not because I remember reading it, but because, like you, I remember living it. {{{{HUGS}}}}

Both times I have dealt with that kind of depression, it was almost a year before I was truly over it. I'm not saying that to scare you, but to warn you that it can take a serious amount of time to work through it. But you can, and I know you will. There IS light at the end of the tunnel, I promise, even though you can't see it now.

And, although this may not pertain to your situation at all, I found both times that one of the key issues I had to deal with was ANGER...

[shadowandstar.livejournal.com]

I've been grieving for more than two years now. Well, I think I'm officially done with "grieving" for LM, but there are other issues that have been surfaced by this, and perhaps ongoing consequences that are not technically part of the grieving.

I had to work through a lot of anger about LM's death: anger at a particular deity, anger at the loss of our future together, anger at the damned unfairness of it all.

[queenofhalves]

when were you last happy before you had him in your life?

[shadowandstar.livejournal.com]

That's an excellent question.

Two things come to mind. The first is working at the rocket company. I had meaningful, fun work, and there was a lot of passion in my life.

After that, seminary. I really enjoyed the community, the study, the challenge.

My problem (one of them, anyway) is creating the kind of stimulating work that both these situations provided for me. *Supposedly* I'm working on that with my SD practice and working on the Ereshkigal book. . . but it hasn't actually turned out that way. I'm not as much of a self-starter as I could be.

And I've probably been underestimating the importance of community. I've invested a lot of energy into my self-image as an introvert, independent, not a community-joiner. But when I don't have the community and support of others, I flounder.

[queenofhalves]

definitely all good information. :>

[shadowandstar.livejournal.com]

Thank you for the highly pertinent question!