My support groups have not been doing as much for me as they used to. With two of the girls planning to move out of state, and an additional facilitator, the dynamics of the group has been shifting. It just hasn’t felt very productive recently.
As much as I have been aware that BoBo might need some additional therapy, I have also been aware of my own needs for something different. The consideration lead me to a cozy coach in the office of Dr. M.
It was like starting over in some respects. The story of Tom’s illness and sudden death being retold, my complaints about the Oncologist’s misinformation, and so on. She asked pointed questions and I answered them. When it was all done she had a few thoughts for me.
She said that it might be another year before the intensity of my grieving eased up – noting the sudden death as a big factor in the timeframe. Because of this, she reminded me that I should be easy on myself.
At first, I found her words comforting; there was a valid reason for my continuing to feel bad. But, after a bit of time passed, I found myself disappointed that my struggles would not be diminishing just yet. The thought of another YEAR of this was NOT comforting in the least bit. Since then I’ve been trying to remember that there is not way anyone, even the Dr. M, can know just how long the intense grief will last.
I found myself with a headache, and three screaming boys in my house. To add to my stress, the neighbors on the other side of the leaning fence have contacted me to arrange for replacing the fence. Just thinking of the cost sets my mind whirling beyond imagination. Naturally, a retreat back to bed was in order. I reminded myself that I need to be kind, sweat, gentle to myself. After all, it was the doctor’s order.