Wobbling Along

13/04/24

I’m finding my current grief induced emotional instability completely exhausting, and rather bewildering.

Earlier today I accessed some gumption and really got stuck into working on the gardens.

I dug and planted a new border, moved pots, raked leaves, planted a willow tree by the pond, scattered seeds and built a swing seat.

It felt so good to be out there, getting my hands dirty and making my muscles work.

Having something to focus on really helped with calming my mind too. I think I managed to go more than an hour, more than once, without thinking about EH.

There’s something about Spring that makes me feel rejuvenated (obviously, I’m far from unique in this). All those little green buds, and the emergence of new life – it holds so much promise and potential. This year, I’ve been more aware than ever of how soul feeding it is for me.

Side note: I’ve bought a little tin sign, and put it up on the inside of the back door; it reads: ‘Off I go, into the garden to lose my mind…and find my soul‘. Factual. Makes me smile every time I read it.

It’s now been just over three years since I stopped using any chemicals in the garden and it feels like things are really starting to thrive.

To my absolute delight, the worm population has exploded.

The wildlife pond, only two years old, is alive with unknown mini-beasts. The plants I put in there last year have established themselves well.

The overall feel is finally starting to reflect the image I’ve held in my head for so long.

I confess, several times today, I realised I was quite glad EH never took an interest.

The few garden items he did pick out, or express a preference for, didn’t align at all with my vision. Obviously I didn’t tell him that. The things he said he liked were purchased and have been in the garden up to now.

I did rather enjoy having the freedom to remove those things completely, or dismantle them and utilise them in a different way.

I love rambling informal planting, daisies in the lawn, borders that swoop and curve, tree stumps left to rot and become houses for fungus and creepy-crawlies, repurposed items used as containers, a little nook to sit in when it rains, a swing seat for when it’s sunny, and wildlife…masses and masses of all the creatures please.

His taste falls firmly within the straight line, no surprises, formal sort of planting. The type of thing you might see outside a town hall. That type of planting makes me feel a bit sad, which is not at all the emotional response I want from my garden.

So, yeah, it was all going great guns, and I’d even had moments of pure contentment.

I came in, ran a bath with my luxe bubbly muscle soak and prepped dinner.

I went upstairs to get in the bath and for no apparent reason, no obvious trigger, my mood plummeted.

I’m so sick of this. I want to keep those earlier feelings of strength, independence and inner peace. I really, really like that space. Why can’t I just tell these sad feeling to sod off and take myself back the the good place?

It takes time, I know, but I’m rapidly getting to the stage where I want to poke people in the eye when they say it.

I do accept that expecting to be over a twenty year marriage within a few months might be pushing myself a bit too hard, but I want to be over it, I want to be on the other side of this. I want to feel like me again.

I also know that this impatient side of me needs to be addressed.

I could do with having a better understanding of this part of me that doesn’t find it easy to wait, to ‘sit with the feelings’, to allow myself time to heal. Is it my controlling self? Whatever.

Just sitting around, ‘giving it time’ doesn’t come naturally to me. I always need to have a plan, something to do about whatever the issue is.

I’ve been giving meditation practice a go, again.

I’m hitting the same problems I always have in the past. I get bored and fidgety very quickly and end up jumping up to do things instead of sitting in quiet contemplation.

On the plus side, I now know that I am able to feel calm and good and contented. I’m not condemned to the perpetual sadness of being the abandoned wife.

OK, that’s a bit melodramatic, but on the super bad days, when I can’t even breathe properly, the concept of calm (never mind contentment), is about as realistic to me as finding a unicorn and riding it out of here.

No matter how shitty I feel right now, the way I felt earlier is a little glimmer to hold onto.

JP