Letting it out
I have so much to let out so much to say. I don't think anyone reads this any more, and that is alright.
I keep moving forward. Keep doing what I think I should be doing for the most part ever since Rob died. At times I feel at peace with everything, at times I feel guilty with moving on with my life. And I do have a life. I am doing so much more than I ever did.
I used to join something, or do something, and it wouldn't be Rob's cup of tea, and so I would eventually stop doing it, or he would want me home, and he would miss me, so I would stop doing it. Or would say no because it would be time I could spend time with him. I don't have that now. I can do what ever I want. I catch myself pausing at invites, or at something I could be doing and thinking, what about Rob, I could be spending time with him, or would he want to do this, and then have to remind myself, that no, I don't have to factor that into my decision any more. There is relief, and there is sadness and there is guilt. And it is all so conflicting.
I am ever so grateful for the friends that have stuck around. I feel like I am leaving a wake of hurt behind me. And people are made uncomfortable by me. So they have stopped contacting me, stopped being my friends. Some of this is good. It has weeded out some people that weren't supportive in the first place. Friendships that were only one sided to begin with. But it also hurts. Work has been the worst. Those that have had to see me daily and work with me daily have had the least compassion, and my closest friend there, has taken things the worst. She at one point said she was so glad to see Rob with his issues being able to live with them. And it gave her hope for her own issues. Well, I think the fact that he couldn't live with them, and now me with mine, struggling, is scaring her. And she is now looking to me to buck up and suck it up, and be perfect. And the friendship is cracking. So I am now stepping back. I can't be her rock.
I have met some great people in being more social, and getting out and doing different things.
It is lonely. This house is lonely. But any place would be lonely. I think about moving, but can't bear to leave here. I'm having dreams. Last night was Rob, his dad, his 2 grandfather's, and his mother. Rob and is dad are happy, they are doing well, and are at peace, and wish me the best. They are happy with the way I am handling things. His grandfathers are at peace, and they want me to stay away from his mother, who is not doing well. She was told off, and I think on the edge. His sister was banging on the door, she was not invited to the meeting, and was barred. I think very telling.
I am still so sad. I know I should be. I know this is perfectly normal. I think about Rob all the time. I try to talk about him. And I can without crying. He was so much a part of my life. He was my soul mate. With all his illnesses, and quirks, he made me a better person. He showed me a better way to be. I am trying to tap into that strength. To keep reminding myself of that strength. To keep moving forward, and keep doing things that are good for me.
I am going to keep talking about some of the same things over and over as I work through them. But I hope as I begin to heal, and I am healing, that I will talk about them less and less. I don't want to burn my friends out.
I keep moving forward. Keep doing what I think I should be doing for the most part ever since Rob died. At times I feel at peace with everything, at times I feel guilty with moving on with my life. And I do have a life. I am doing so much more than I ever did.
I used to join something, or do something, and it wouldn't be Rob's cup of tea, and so I would eventually stop doing it, or he would want me home, and he would miss me, so I would stop doing it. Or would say no because it would be time I could spend time with him. I don't have that now. I can do what ever I want. I catch myself pausing at invites, or at something I could be doing and thinking, what about Rob, I could be spending time with him, or would he want to do this, and then have to remind myself, that no, I don't have to factor that into my decision any more. There is relief, and there is sadness and there is guilt. And it is all so conflicting.
I am ever so grateful for the friends that have stuck around. I feel like I am leaving a wake of hurt behind me. And people are made uncomfortable by me. So they have stopped contacting me, stopped being my friends. Some of this is good. It has weeded out some people that weren't supportive in the first place. Friendships that were only one sided to begin with. But it also hurts. Work has been the worst. Those that have had to see me daily and work with me daily have had the least compassion, and my closest friend there, has taken things the worst. She at one point said she was so glad to see Rob with his issues being able to live with them. And it gave her hope for her own issues. Well, I think the fact that he couldn't live with them, and now me with mine, struggling, is scaring her. And she is now looking to me to buck up and suck it up, and be perfect. And the friendship is cracking. So I am now stepping back. I can't be her rock.
I have met some great people in being more social, and getting out and doing different things.
It is lonely. This house is lonely. But any place would be lonely. I think about moving, but can't bear to leave here. I'm having dreams. Last night was Rob, his dad, his 2 grandfather's, and his mother. Rob and is dad are happy, they are doing well, and are at peace, and wish me the best. They are happy with the way I am handling things. His grandfathers are at peace, and they want me to stay away from his mother, who is not doing well. She was told off, and I think on the edge. His sister was banging on the door, she was not invited to the meeting, and was barred. I think very telling.
I am still so sad. I know I should be. I know this is perfectly normal. I think about Rob all the time. I try to talk about him. And I can without crying. He was so much a part of my life. He was my soul mate. With all his illnesses, and quirks, he made me a better person. He showed me a better way to be. I am trying to tap into that strength. To keep reminding myself of that strength. To keep moving forward, and keep doing things that are good for me.
I am going to keep talking about some of the same things over and over as I work through them. But I hope as I begin to heal, and I am healing, that I will talk about them less and less. I don't want to burn my friends out.