I woke up before the alarm, but didn’t get up until after. I left the bedroom door open to see if that helped me to get out of bed because I could see that he was not here, and I wouldn’t be tempted to lay abed feeling like he was on the other side of the door as long as I didn’t open it.
I’ve got a projection clock in the bedroom, so all I need to do to see the time is look at the wall. The numbers are large enough that I can read them without my glasses, but I’ve trained myself not to look at the time overnight. That way, when I wake up to go to the bathroom in the night, I’m not becoming aware of how much time is left before the alarm. By not looking at the time, I can go back to sleep without my brain waking up. Because once I see the time, my brain will click on to calculating how much time I’ve got left to sleep IF I fall right to sleep when I get into bed.
When I was a freshman at college, my ex-boyfriend back in Chicago killed himself. For months after that, I had trouble sleeping. I remember spending time in other people’s dorm rooms, just reading until the wee hours of the night. I honestly don’t know how I made it through college after that. I was wrecked in a lot of ways, and I think I made some mistakes that I might not have if he hadn’t done that. But I did learn that sleep is what grief tends to take from me.
I remember talking to Ambrose about that. I told him that I wanted to be able to sleep when he was gone, and we took steps together to help make that happen. There have been only a few nights since he died that I had trouble falling asleep. A few more nights that I had trouble going to bed, but even there, I have enough discipline to put myself to bed when I need to.
I got my exercises done before noon. It’s weird to only need to do two loads of laundry, but I don’t use as much clothing by myself as we did together. I want to try and start budgeting, but I’m not sure that I’m ready yet. I mean, I’ve got a loose budget in mind. I know approximately what’s coming in and what’s going out automatically. I can spend the remainder, but I need to keep track of what that is. Ambrose had a great budgeting spreadsheet that worked for us, but it’s hard for me to look at it.
I finally put up my suitcase from the September trip to Chicago. There was still some stuff in it, and it was sitting at the foot of my bed. Now it’s been put away, and my room feels clearer. I still want to clear off the table and the kitchen counters, but I’m making progress. Oh! I need a new dustpan. Mine just snapped in two, brittle plastic.
I’m starting to think about backpacking trips for the summer. I was going to take my nieces out last year, but Ambrose’s death canceled those plans. I’m not sure if I’m going to be up to taking them this summer. I know I want to do the Idaho Centennial Trail section that I was going to do last August. My friend Bill has already offered to be my trailhead shuttle, so I’ll plan to drive up to Moscow on my own and then get a ride with him into Montana, which is the easiest way to access the trailhead. I’m going to be skipping the Selway for a bit, and moving on towards the Stateline trail. I’ll need to do a few trips for conditioning.
I’ll want to do some car camping in May. Hiking could be as early as April as long as I go to the right trailheads. I should be able to hike along the Snake River in Hells Canyon pretty early, and I know how to watch out for the way poison ivy looks out there. Heck, I could probably do a backpack along there. I’ll have to double check where the best trailhead will be for me. I don’t want to have to use a boat. Though that could be fun to do some time.
I’ve been stepping outside a lot today. It’s too cold and wet to stay outside for long, but I keep going back. Feeling the wind and breathing deeply of the moist air. I still get very emotional thinking about what I’m going to do with my life. Not knowing what my purpose is here, now that I don’t have my man to take care of. Now that I don’t have my man to take care of me. I feel like the answer to the question is to be found in motion, and that motion is on the trail. The weather, and the legal system, are keeping me from trails in this winter season. Giving me time to heal. Time to unpack, and process, and time to remember.
The panic comes from the part of me that isn’t patient. That wants to know all the answers now, now, now. I can relax into the flow, keep swimming, and I will know what to do when the time is right.