I scheduled a physical for today because I’ve been feeling too much under the weather lately and figured it was best to get myself checked. Although while I sat in the waiting area, I began to wonder why even bother? Or that perhaps I just need a real vacation, unplugged from all things reality. Not the running away I’d been doing.
My cheery doctor walked in, and shook my hand as usual, which, in my case doesn’t make me feel any better. In fact, it puts me under more stress. But I didn’t want to burst her bubble.
Anyway, as always the first question she asks is – what brings you here today. And my first reaction always, a sigh – which I figure would set the tone, or maybe causes the doctor to brace herself – because let’s face it, sigh is the predictable in their line of work.
Today however, she sat there and actually listened to all the s*** I dished out and the more I spoke, the lower her jaw dropped – and although she humored me with an exam, she sat across from me and said – There is only one thing wrong with you – and I held my breath. Your heart…I gulped…she slid closer, and held my hand…and I am certain I turned pale. You are suffering from a broken heart – she said and I cocked my head back, wondering if she was mocking me. But she wasn’t. She was genuinely serious and repeated it again adding – and for that there isn’t much we can do except tell you that it takes time to heal a broken heart – and she wished me well and left the room.
Well this sucks…
Since my last post, I had decided I wasn’t going to focus on the bad. Which 90…80…70…okay 60pct of the time I am not doing. The other 40, seems I am unintentionally breaking down.
For example. I’ve been staying away from my house for weeks now. Staying with a good friend down in Southern Cal and even a few hotels up and down the coast – just so I don’t have to have any reminders of…you know what.
This past weekend I had to go back to the house, and sort of handle bills, a few clean up issues and physically go into work – since I’ve been remote working the last few weeks.
As I pulled into the driveway I panicked and had a very difficult time going inside, and all of a sudden all I could do is unload my luggage and frivolous things and leave the house, for the entire day running the streets, from store to store, to mall to movies – anything not to be home. I hate it how I was feeling
And then the stupidest thing I did was reach out to him – to tell him he had some important mail at the house, which led us to get together for the afternoon so I could give him his mail and he – my birthday present which he’d bought over a month ago, right after he left.
We did some talking – at first the not-so-important topics and then a few catching up and minor exchange of regrets. I don’t know how real the latter was, because it didn’t resonate with me as it should have – perhaps I’ve gotten accustomed to the norm his shitty behavior had become over the years.
It was heartbreaking to see him, but it was also a good thing – because it helped me realize things I am not yet ready to say here. And then Sunday came and went, and I cried, and curled up into a ball on my bed, with my dog by my side, confused as to the way I am behaving lately. And Monday morning I woke up at 4 and drove right back to my friend’s house to take refuge.
One step forward – twenty back…