eleven

Honestly, the past week has probably been the best since Matt died. This doesn’t mean that I haven’t cried or felt depressed; it just means that I have felt less of those things than before. I think there are a few factors involved here. I have realized in the last week or so that I still have the ability to care a lot about other people. I can love people besides Matt, and receive love back. It won’t be the same, but I’ve just been grateful for any that I can get this week. It means so much to me that I have friends who seem to deeply care about me, and I’m encouraged to see that I can care about them too. Being able to give and to receive love is a very good thing, and I’ve been glad to see that I’m still capable of both.

Another possible reason that this has been a pretty decent week is that I can tell how much I have changed in the last 11 weeks. When I read over older entries, I still feel all those emotions as I’m remembering how I felt when I wrote about them, but they’re more dull now. (This isn’t true across the board or all the time – it’s just so much better than it had been.) I’m glad to see that I have made progress. It didn’t seem like I was getting anywhere at all in the midst of everything, but with 11 weeks’ perspective I can tell that I was. It’s sad, but a good thing. Matt is not in the present anymore – he’s a memory. Yes, that’s still depressing. But time makes these things so much easier to accept and to deal with. No, my life is not what I wanted it to be. I’m not a very ambitious woman; I had exactly what I wanted in being married to Matt – except for his mental illness. But I am accepting change and trying to do it gracefully and honestly, because I have no other choice.

I bought a bed frame today. I haven’t slept in my bed since Feburary 20th, and my therapist has encouraged me to set some kind of goal for myself with regards to sleeping there again. So, to that end, I bought a bed frame. It’s shipping from Amazon so I won’t have it for a while, but that will give me time to clean up and re-organize. I’ll have to make it into MY bedroom, not our bedroom. The bedroom and the garage are going to be the hardest rooms to make “mine,” not “ours.” Yes, this is also depressing. But I have to tackle it, and I am going to.

Life certainly can be frustrating. I’m learning so much out of this. I hope that this makes me a better person eventually, though I kind of feel like it already has somehow.