I'm feeling a little lost today.
I'm having difficulty putting together coherent thoughts about my Mom, whether it's a story or my feelings about her. I hate to say it so dramatically, but the proverbial well is dry.
But I know better. Or else why would I do this to myself? Every night I sit with alone with our stories and vividly recall the details. But when the morning comes, there's too much noise in my head and a linear memory is becoming harder to find. My emotions are on overload, humming inside me like an engine. And it's making me numb.
A friend tried to help me with the gift of a memory, but I selfishly squandered it by focusing the attention on me. I don't know what came over me. It was an uncharacteristically conceited moment. And as I shifted to recall all of my bits and pieces, my Mom receded into the background where the lines of her face and the timber of her voice were lost. Instead of getting angry or sad, I just sat in front of my computer and stared at a blank screen.
There's a part of me that feels separated from my reality, as if I'm a spectator in my own life. It makes me question my circumstances. All the things that I worked hard for over the years--my marriage, my kids, my idyllic life--seem superficial. And I get scared that maybe I'm not happy.
Is this my mid-life crisis? Or just writer's block?
Or is this a phase of grieving that I haven't been introduced to yet?
I have more questions today than anything else. If anyone can tell me what this is, I would REALLY appreciate it.
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