I’m so tired of this. I’m so tired of feeling this way, and of always thinking about Sean and things reminding me of him and trying to be aware of the process, and my feelings, and explaining how I feel to friends. Of thinking about and articulating how I feel. All. The. Time.
I cried on an airplane today. I cried in my kitchen, and eventually on a friend’s lap. I cried in the car when we passed the hospital where Sean died. Coming home from a week-long trip to LA hit me harder than I thought. I don’t want to be in San Francisco. Starting a new life sounds amazing… a life away from so many things about here, and be done with this slow painful heavy engulfing process. I still have so much love for Sean and in spite of that – or maybe even because of that- I’m more and more weighted down in this walk. So everything in me is screaming to turn around… to run from this city that I grew to love.
And I so enjoyed being away from it, in LA. Being myself, out with people I love- not thinking about death, hospitals, or feelings. Bowling left-handed and nailing it. Singing loudly with the windows down. Not being required to fill in well-intended awkward silences. Warm sand. Good company of sincere, encouraging, funny, uplifting, quality people.
And then I hate that everything is magnified for me- everything is monumental. A change of scenery to see friends is huge to me. Coming home to an almost-empty house and paperwork about health insurance was a devastating reality. I have no emotional reservoir, and feelings run so deep. I get annoyed about people standing around me too long, or even just blocking the aisle at the grocery store. I hate this version of me. I feel out of control. I feel like I can’t be there for other people, because my emotional needs are overwhelming. I never wanted to be that person, and that’s hard for me. It’s hard to be vulnerable.