The yahrzeit candle is sitting in the middle of the stovetop.
I lit it just before midnight, and I hope it will burn all day. It already seems to have burned down to the liquid, and there are many hours left to go.
Other than that I have not done anything special to mark this day, the 8th anniversary of my mom's death.
Welcome, fellow travelers on the grief journey
and a special welcome to anyone new to The Grieving Room.
We meet every Monday evening.
Whether your loss is recent, or many years ago;
whether you've lost a person, or a pet;
or even if the person you're "mourning" is still alive,
("pre-grief" can be a very lonely and confusing time),
you can come to this diary and say whatever you need to say.
We can't solve each other's problems,
but we can be a sounding board and a place of connection.
Unlike a private journal
here, you know: your words are read by people who
have been through their own hell.
There's no need to pretty it up or tone it down..
It just is.
When I saw the grief anniversary was falling on a Monday this year, I scheduled myself for the day, but now that it is here I don't have a lot to say.
This is the easiest anniversary so far, although the night is young. I have not had any cry spells. I have not been plagued by any hard memories of things I wish I had done and said differently.
But for the last few days I have not been myself.
I slept fitfully last night. I know I had some odd dreams because when I woke up I was feeling disoriented and confused. Even after 11 hours in bed I felt very groggy, as if I had not slept at all. I looked in the mirror and the face looking back did not even look like me. I just feel weird.
I have been eating a lot. I ate so much yesterday that I made myself ill. Two small bags of chips, hot chocolate with marshmallows, fried foods I don't usually indulge in... my resistance is weaker than usual. I have undone all the positive food choices and exercise of the last several weeks. Damn.
My conscious mind is telling itself I am "doing okay" but actions speak louder than words and I am doing a very poor job of self care. All the unexpressed anxiety of the day is finding a way to come out.
I feel cooped up and restricted and longing to get outdoors. I keep looking out the window and thinking about going for a walk even in the winterstorm that has been dumping snow on the city since yesterday afternoon (18 inches so far). But the building manager has not done a very good job of clearing the sidewalk and steps and I am afraid of falling.
I'm not sobbing, but I'm not feeling much of anything else either. I am a little numb. I've been sitting in the dark since the sun went down. I feel out of sorts. I am trying to be rational and remind myself that this day will pass.
Sorry I don't have anything more stirring or poetic to say.