When this happens, something inside my stomach starts to tighten. Although I can't put my finger on exactly what's going on inside of me, I just don't feel "right." I could pretty easily brush it off at this beginning stage by telling myself it's nothing, I'm fine. But if I give these internal signals any thought, I know I'm not ok. I need time. I need to retreat from whatever normal people activity I'm doing.
I've been in Tahoe with some of my friends since Friday night. It's been really nice to be somewhere beautiful, try things I've never done before, and dress up to go out at night. A month ago I would've never been able to do a weekend trip like this. At that point it was even difficult for me to go out to a bar. Now I'm here, meeting new people, and actually enjoying myself.
But this morning I woke up and my body felt heavy in a way that isn't typical of a normal hangover. I felt completely weighed down. My affect was flat. Nothing about our plans for today sounded remotely compelling enough to get me out of bed. There was an anxious knot in my stomach that I attributed to the massive amount of homework I have due. I told the girls I needed to stay in to read, they understood, and left for the day's adventure without me.
I began to read, but ended up starting the same sentence about four times. My eyes were looking at the words, but there was a disconnect between the letters and my brain. I tried reading aloud, hoping that in verbal form they might sink in better. Nope. I squinted my eyes to fixate harder on the book. I furrowed my brow for increased concentration. My whole body got tense. Every fiber of my being wanted to read so badly to the point that I'd been forgetting to breathe.
I finally filled my lungs with a much needed gasp of oxygen. As I exhaled, a flood of tears bursted from my eyes. I started breathing shallow and painful breaths as the tears kept streaming down my face. Why Blake? Why me? Why can't I be normal?
Although it's too late, and nothing will change the fact that Blake is gone, I still wish with all of my heart that my love for him was enough. Why is love not enough? I know we were meant to re-meet each other and fall deeply in love. He came back into my life when he did because I was meant for him and he was meant for me. I feel in a lot of ways that his love saved me and will continue to save me. But why couldn't my love save him? Why couldn't I make the same impact on him as he did on me?
These are the thoughts weighing me down right now. Although my breathing has returned to normal and the tears are now just streaks on my blotchy cheeks, I'm not ok. But that's ok.
I clearly need a break from the world today and this breakdown is just my body's way of reminding me of that. I have been trying so hard to live my life and I know I'm doing a great job. But moving forward doesn't mean I have to deny myself a daily pause to check in with how I'm feeling. When I go days without writing or talking about Blake, my heart gets backed up, weighed down, and eventually screams at me to pay attention to it.