I set myself up for a really good cry last night, not all together on purpose but sort of accidentally/on purpose. I was having a quiet Friday night; I turned the fireplace on, poured a glass of wine and sat down to watch a Barbara Streisand special on Netflix. Within minutes the dogs were worrying at my feet and I was reaching for the box of Kleenex. “🎶 memories are beautiful, and yet…🎶”. I closed my eyes and dove in; into my memories, my grief and my aloneness.
By the time the special was over Barbara had ripped my heart out six ways to Tuesday and I had all but polished off the bottle of wine. My tears were spent, the Kleenex box was empty and the dogs had long since abandoned their efforts to cheer me up. I was exhausted.
It’s been a while since I indulged grief – I usually work hard to keep it contained and my spirits up. There’s nothing about my situation I would have chosen given the opportunity, but chosen or not, this is where I am. I have uplifting chats with myself all the time – I’m my own spin doctor. And that’s exhausting too.
I get the keys to my new digs in five weeks. We have made progress sorting out hidden clutter; the attic has been dealt with, the books and some furniture have been re-homed; but now I have to face the stuff of my daily life and I’ve been procrastinating like crazy. I’ve been exhausted just thinking about it.
I think I needed last night’s cry – needed to spend those bottled tears, needed to feel sorry for myself and just let exhaustion have it’s way with me for an evening. The dogs don’t seem worse for my indulgence and I woke up this morning a little more ready to tackle things. My spin doctor is hard at work today. I may have accidentally/on purpose re-set my resolve to get cracking. Onward.