In The Dark...Everything Lights Up

Written from bed...1:53am:

I'm starting to really hate the dark. I'm starting to hate coming to bed. Bedtime is no longer something to look forward to. Its been replaced by panic attacks, nervousness, anxiety, sadness, loneliness, emptiness, and shock. Bedtime is now the time when all the thoughts I've been suppressing throughout the day to get by...come flooding back into my head. Sometimes it happens so fast that I can keep all the thoughts straight.

After just having a small breakdown, I've come to realize that I'm not sure I've even really accepted the fact that Jason's gone! Its been more than two weeks. I've carried his ashes on a plane, and buried them in Boston. I've visited his grave, and said goodbye. How is that I haven't accepted this?

One theory swimming in my head is that I've been on "go" mode since his death...and even before. I've been "in-charge" of his care and making sure his wishes have been carried out. I've been making sure everyone else is taken care of...making sure they all "let it out" that I, myself, haven't let it out. A piece of me is wondering when is it gonna be my turn to break down. Why do I even need permission? I don't, I guess...but why do I feel like I do? Maybe I feel this way because I need permission from myself! Interesting thought, no? I think I'll delve into that one tomorrow with my therapist.

There should be a training course on how to do all of this. It reall sucks that no one can tell you definitively how to do this (though, lord knows people try).

The man I shared a bed with will no longer be coming to bed. I have to get used to sleeping alone again. I've been sleeping alone for almost 3 weeks...and before Jason...years. Why is that so hard to do now? I'm tired. I'm exhausted. Why can't I just fall asleep like I have so many other nights?

Again...like I said in my previous entry...there are no correct answers to these questions. I've said it myself....everyone grieves differently.

I just need to stop.

Until next time...
Stuart