Spinning

I've been spending a lot of time in my head lately. It's not necessarily a bad place to be, but I'm definitely ready for some girl time with my friend Alicia this weekend. She's en route to me right now from Michigan. As I try to get my blogging out of the way before she arrives, I say a little gratitude prayer for a friend who will hop a plane to see me not once, but twice in these almost 6 months since Rick's been gone.

In the mornings, I feel like my eyes snap open wide immediately, and my mind starts spinning, going over things a hundred times, trying to process through feelings and ideas and fears. Sometimes I think so hard while I'm driving that I pass my destination. My spinning thoughts are more about me, my emotions, and adjusting to my new life than they are about the void of Rick. I miss him, but if I stop thinking about the way in which he died, I can sort of come to terms with the fact that he's not here. I miss him, but the grief is not all-consuming most of the time. Most of the time...

The trick is to not go back to that day. To those feelings. To the trauma. To the mess of the line that divides wife from widow. I remind myself that moving forward feels better, and that propels me onward.

The more I tell myself not to overthink, the more it happens.

Alicia and I have no big plans. Just friendship time and a little less thinking on my part.

I can sense a shift in the blog this past month. It used to be that I blogged to soothe me, to help me feel heard, to process my feelings, and to grieve outwardly at the end of my day. These days, it seems to be more of an afterthought. I still want to do it. It's still useful for me. But I feel soothed without it...the feelings I'm processing are ones I prefer to ponder alone in quiet hours...and except for small bouts here and there, I think grieving outwardly is coming to a close. I do still have a need to feel heard, though. It's there, but it's different. When it comes right down to it, my needs are different every day.