Every morning I peer through the blinds at my bedroom window, watching birds sweeping across the sky and the squirrels jumping from tree to tree. The Sky is rarely just blue, but rather a spectrum of colours with a hue of red, green or blue. This morning though, the Sky was uncharacteristically grey. The sun was missing and without it’s golden rays the earth looked dim and cold. I felt like it reflected my heart at the moment.
Just as each day brings a new weather front, a variety of colours and temperatures, my mood and emotions follow suit.
One day, I am like a clear summer’s day, all golden and glowy with a bright smile and twinkle in my eye. I feel so much love for my family and the friends around me I feel like I’ll get sunburnt with too much exposure to such love!
Then there are the days where I wake up with a rain cloud over my head, the thunderous pain and storm thrashes about in my stomach, giving me an ache that will not ease, longing for things to be right again.
And there are the many days in between. The days where everything is still, the air is cool, the earth and its surroundings is filtered with a shade of blue/grey and the colours of the flowers lose their vibrancy. Those days I feel numb, cold, fatigued and on shut down.
Today is one of those days. I thought that when you lose a loved one, (or loved ones) life gives you a break to heal. Like the calm after a battle, when the soldiers take their wounded and rebuild before the next attack.
But no, the nightmare continues. The battle is not over. Now we embark on a cruel and eerie dejavous where another person we love is suffering with the same symptoms my dad had before he was diagnosed with a terminal illness.
In my quietest moments of pondering, I must admit that my author inner voice raises the question: “what if this was a plot twist? What if this life was not living? What if I am already dead and I am in hell, and the aim of this story is to figure it out and find a way back into heaven?”
Do you ever wonder that? Does life ever hit you down so hard and so repeatedly that you stop and wonder if this was all just some sick joke?
Today my anxiety woke up like a sleeping monster, and hit me hard with thoughts of death.
And yet it’s not my own death that I fear.
It’s being left behind that fills me with dread.
I hate being left behind.