How Do I Feel? Let Me Name the Ways, 28 June 2012

Today I plunked down on my therapist's couch and said, "Tell me how I feel."  We laughed at the absurdity that she could simply unscramble the crazy cocktail of emotions built up inside me, write it down, and hand it to me on a piece of paper; but really, that is kind of what I was hoping for.

In the last two weeks, I ran my youngest sister's wedding (sorry Em, but that's basically the truth); said hello and goodbye to close family from across the Pacific; coordinated a week of meals for over a dozen (and cooked a little too); managed transporting and coralling my kids with Jay; socialized with friends and family through my dad's wedding, which was also attended by my widowed father-in-law and his new gal; and received word that the homicide trial for my MIL is being delayed by an insanity plea (not surprising, but annoying and disappointing).

To experience all this at once has been...not easy.  And weird.  And sad and happy and confusing and tiring and--help!  During my appointment this morning, I related these activities to the therapist and told her I really haven't known how I've felt in the wake of all this.  People have been kind-heartedly asking me, "How are you doing?" to which I answer, "Uhhh..." and try to change the subject.

But I like things to have labels and I'd like to be able to tell people how I'm doing, so between my therapist and me we worked out some descriptions to use.

I'm confused.

Disorented.

Experiencing "complicated grief" (an actual clinical term).

I'm completely exhausted.

Convalescing from a difficult time.

Growing.

Yes, she said that the greatest times of growth often come after a period of significant disorientation, when life as we understand it is challenged.  That's nice to hear, but what do I do?? I wanted to know.  Her answer?  "Take care of you and recover."  Oh.  I don't have to cry or journal or do some sort of worksheet?  No, I just need to do what's best for me in the moment.

Since Jay's got my back (and the boys for about 28 hours), that's what I'm setting out to do today. Taking care of oneself looks different for each person, but here's what my Take Care of Me campaign has looked like today:

1. Didn't get out of bed before I was ready this morning.  (Jay made me French toast as a bonus.  He's a keeper.)
2. Chatted with Clare on the phone.
3. Spent a valuable hour with my invaluable therapist.
4. Grabbed a book (Putting a Face on America, about a walk from coast-to-coast) and had lunch at an Indian buffet.  Naan and chicken marsala are great healers, by the way.
5. Started laundry.  Oddly enough, that does takes care of me!  It eliminates a nagging chore, and as I hang things to dry on racks outside, I remember packing this clothing article or sweating in that one, and I feel a relieved sense of "reset" as I see them washed and airing out.
6. Sat on the couch with the book.
7. Sat on the couch with the blog.

Pretty soon, I think I'll be lying on the couch with a nap.  Maybe ice cream is in my future, or perhaps a travel show, or maybe a library visit.  But the beautiful thing is, I'm not making any plans for the rest of the day because I don't have to.

I don't have to figure out what I'm feeling or what I'm going to do or what I'm going to say.  Today, I'm taking care of me by taking the day one hour at a time.

Or maybe two hours, if I sleep that long.