It is 2:38 a.m. and I have been awake now for about an hour, after not quite three hours of sleep. Pretty much normal for me anymore, to sleep a few hours, wake, rustle around, sleep, wake, rustle rustle.
It’s wearing on me.
And I am feeling sad.
There’s this thing that has been happening for awhile. Two things actually. I will wake, and feel a twisting ache in my chest, and a little voice in me says, “My heart is killing me.” And then, my brain clicks ON and starts recounting the reasons I hate my husband.
I do hate him.
I am sure I will get over it (I hope to god I get over it), but this wrenching pain in my heart fuels the hate, and the mid-night recap of the reasons for my feelings tends to spin me all around, and keep me awake.
I am very sad that this is my state of being as this year comes to a close. I am deeply and mournfully sad.
I am also puzzled at what the little voice says to me: My heart is killing me. I argue with the voice, trying to explain the possible ramifications of repeating a message like this … my heart. killing me.
But for four months the voice has said the same thing.
So I close out the year 2009 in a state of grief and sorrow and hate. Indeed I have a good measure of gratitude, and some shining slivers of love. And the care and love that my friends and family have bestowed upon and bedazzled me with have without a doubt sustained me–literally keeping me alive.
But the core of my being–right now, as we speak–is a burning hole of loss.
