The Feeling Of Being Not Here

The feeling of being just not here is growing. There are pains in my body that move around so I never know what to try to heal. I'm always chasing some new hurt. Obviously this time, the holidays, are more terrible since Mom died. They bring into sharp focus the fact that my other half is gone. Or my complete whole. Or all of me. I feel like the walking dead sometimes. Numb. Clear-colored. Plastic. And I don't know what to do. Having never been depressed I couldn't tell you if I am now or if I'm just very, very blue. I do know that nothing feels or looks the same as it did when she was alive. It's as if, finally, I'm understanding that all of my joy of life went with Mom. I can laugh and smile and feel happy and hopeful for others, I just can't sit up, can't move toward them, toward the happiness. Everything feels at arm's length.