Have you ever felt completely drained?
The last two days have been difficult for me to find any kind of motivation but instead of being in the debilitating "dark place" I realize that I feel kind of adrift in the gray spaces of in-between.
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Functional but not 100%.
Tired by cannot sleep.
Calm exterior and torn up on the inside.
I'm not going to give you all the in-betweens because it's life and adulting sucks sometimes!
So does the feeling of hurry up and wait.
There are too many things on too many fronts in the present position of "hurry up and wait" and frankly, it's flippin' exhausting.
Where is the resolution?
WHEN is it coming?
What happened to the dark place?
Highs and Lows - June 22, 2017
The low
It's a cyclical thing - or at least I think it is - when the dark cloud begins to descend the week leading up to June 22. You see, it's the anniversary of my father's death. This year marks seven years without his voice, his confidence or humor, and quirks that made him unique. He was the template of my life.
From him I learned most of my parenting skills (the do's and don'ts), the importance of being an active listener, to give is more rewarding than to receive, to remain humble and keep one's sense of humor, to love family and nature. I learned that it's okay to follow one's dream as long as the basics are taken care of first.
The high
And just as I was content to spend the day wrapped up in the dark place, my heart leaped with joy seeing a letter from Parris Island, where my youngest son nears the end of Phase I in Marine Corps bootcamp. With the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning, I tore the envelope, my eyes hungry for his written words. And then I barked with unexpected laughter.
Here you go!
Quite the prolific writer, no?
The short and sweet of it is this: It's something my father would have written.
I was reminded of my time in college when it was the first time away from home. My family owned a bar at that time plus I'd been making Harvey Wallbangers for dad from the time I was 5 so liquor was not a mystery nor was it ever off limits. Needless to say, I never went through the wild and free phase of the "college experience." So, on phone calls he'd ask if I had booze in the room (knowing I was still underage) and my answer was always honest. After silence for a heartbeat or two he'd say "Send me some." LOL
Did I glimpse a wee bit of my father in my son?
What is this gray space?
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As I sit here pouring out these random thoughts I'm wondering what happened to the dark place? Familiar grief, where have you gone? It wasn't that long ago when writing an anecdote about dad required a box of tissue but I'm... okay.
I really hate that phrase, "I'm okay"
because it's gray and I'm not sure what to do with it.
I'd almost prefer the dark debilitating place where a goal might be to shower that day if I could get out of bed. Sure that place feels like shit but at least I know what it is. It knocks me down and I'm out for a little bit and then it's over. But this gray place? It's like swimming through mud. I can only surmise that it's some kind of healing. It's foreign and strange and I'm not certain I like it. Maybe that sounds a little crazy?
My boys' battalion colors and platoon number
Mighty Mikes | Easy (Evil) Echo |
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All images are mine unless otherwise noted. Green Guy courtesy of Pixabay CC0 public domain |