The following is journaling that I did 5 days after Jana died. I want to add these journal writings to my blog, they are hard for me to read…but, it’s good to revisit. I can see the despair in my thinking. Thanks be to God for bringing me along and not leaving me there.
Reminders are everywhere. Her clothes are in my room, stacked in the living room, and found in hospital bags tied up tight. I don’t want to see anything from the hospital. I hate it. The items she used to treat her sores from the chemo are abhorrent to me. The chemo… What I thought was “good” for her, in the scheme of recovery, was actually what took her life. Who knew that potent, hazardous chemical was deteriorating her intestinal track so much that it perforated. The reminders are not needed for me to mentally track back to those days in the hospital and that night. The horrible night. I hate it.
I hug Nameless, the Minecraft sheep, each night. I whisper “nighty-night” to it, just as I had to Jana for years. We had our nightly routine, and it was so important to each of us that we followed through. If one of us suspected that we didn’t exchange our nightly greeting, kiss, and “I love you”, it was a question in the morning. “Did we forget to say goodnight?” We did not go to bed mad, if needed we talked it out…sometimes until late at night, but we completed the conversation.
I feel anxious and anxiety filled constantly. There is a pit in my stomach that will not let me go. My grief is reaching the fever pitch of sorrow. 6 days ago this all came to being. Nobody saw it coming. I still cannot believe it. I am tired, without energy, and mentally exhausted. In the middle of the night, I still wake and begin thinking. Constantly thinking. No answers, no solutions, no noticeable progress…just grinding away at memories, the now, and the future. I am not happy, I feel depressed. No interest in anything. Clinical depression.
Took a walk today at Watkin’s Mill. That was tough since we had gone there together so many times. We walked the trail countless times together. We took wonderful pictures at the mill. When I approached the entry gate I began to cry. I walked the trail and prayed. It was good to find comfort in visiting with the Lord.