Yes, It IS All About Me...

Today the sadness caught up to me... the day started out like any other; lots of things on the to-do list, a full pot of coffee - I even took a shower and got dressed for work! And what happened? Out of nowhere, I began to feel like no matter what my intentions, I was being pulled down, down, down - inside my head. And my head wasn't in a very good place.

I was speaking with a friend earlier this evening, about all the changes in my life since the Bunny died. Sure, it's a lot for a person to go through; but I have been going through it and "doing well" based on most people's evaluations of my progress. My friend was telling me that it was understandable that I still loved the Bunny, and that I will "move on" when I'm ready... but the thing is, it's not loving the Bunny that is holding me back. What's holding me back is that I loved my life. That one the Bunny I shared together. Even though I have been moving forward, and making changes, and picking up pieces, and figuring out things that I want to be doing - the truth is, every step I take forward takes me one step further away from that life I used to have, the life I loved. The life where I was... happy. Fulfilled. Content. Cared for. Complete.

It makes me wonder, on my journey to this new identity... if I create a new life, a life that I love as much as I loved that other one - does that mean I really didn't love that old life? That I only believed I was happy and it wasn't true? That I was faking it? Had the Bunny still been around, would I have eventually grown tired of being with him and we would have split up sooner or later? If I create a new life, a life that I love as much as I loved that other one - is that betraying the Bunny's memory? As if to say I don't really miss him? As if to say... it was merely inconvenient that he died, but look at me, I've gotten over it?

I guess if I had to put my finger on it, I would have to say I'm feeling guilty for being happy. I realize that if the Bunny were here, he would be the first to tell me that his hope would be that I was successful in finding my way back to happiness. And because that's what he would want, I would naturally want the same thing. But feeling it is quite a different thing than simply wanting to feel it. It's kind of like eating a big slice of German chocolate cake, and then feeling bad because you've completely blown the diet (and if you are a teenaged girl, your immediate reaction is wanting to stick your finger down your throat).

It's the end of the day, and I am back on the upswing. By the time I wake up tomorrow, I know I will be in my more normal, postive frame of mind. I will have lots of things on the to-do list, I'll brew a full pot of coffee, I'll take a shower and get dressed for work. The difference will be I have a training class and a few meetings to attend, which will put me around people. Being around people reminds me that I am alive, and that my presence in the world matters. Somebody, tomorrow, is going to smile at me, and I am going to smile back... and taking that small step, I will feel happy.

And feeling it is quite a different thing than simply wanting to feel it.