To go or not to go?. That is the question.

I really wanted this post to be light. You know, uplifting since the last ten or so have been so bleak. I wanted to write about silly little things that have made me laugh and comical situations that I've got myself into that would make you smile and roll your eyes at the same time.. but alas, you're stuck with the grief... as am I... unlike me though, feel free to back away any time you like. I write because I find it cathartic, not because I am under any illusion that I am entertaining you... I am quite sure I am not doing that. I find it useful to get my head out on 'paper'. It clears it ready for the next deluge of stuff, with a hope that eventually that stuff will be joyful, fun and optimistic.

Today has been a bad day. In fact, it's been horrendous. The worst so far, by far. And I'm not really sure what's triggered it or if grief needs a trigger. It comes uninvited, making no apology for its presence or it's lack of subtlety. Today it fucking burst through the door with size twelve nail boots on, shouting and screaming at the top of it's voice.

I woke with every intention to make today a day of achievements. I wanted to get the Christmas decorations out, go into Truro and get some last minute gifts and some paint for the bathrooms. I wanted to clean the house of building dust and make it really nice for the weekend, all in the knowledge that I'd been invited out to a friends house for supper tonight with a really fun gang of people and the promise of great food, drink and kitchen dancing. I got as far as taking the dog for a walk on the beach when grief gate crashed. I found myself not wanting to look out to sea because I knew I wouldn't see Oli there and I knew that would disappoint me. I've become so fixated on seeing signs that now I daren't look because I know I won't see them and I can't stand the crushing disappointment. I got angry and hurt because I thought that the love that Oli and I had was great enough to warrant 'signs'... I mean, have I seriously become that deranged? Or is it that the reality of Oli NEVER coming back is starting to finally sink in. I think my brain has taken this long to process what it thought an impossibility. As a result I have spent the entire day in tears.. unable to stop. Constant heart wrenching sobs that just keep coming in waves.

When there was a brief glimmer of respite, I went to our walk in attic to get the Christmas decorations out. I got as far as our wreath that I got last year and it so reflected my mood that I felt it grossly unfair to put it out on the front door for the neighbours to see. Everything had died on it. The foliage was dried and faded, the little dried oranges and cinnamon sticks had grown a delicious layer of mould.. I have no idea why I kept it, only to say that it must have been that it cost me £70 from Freddies Flowers and I must have thought that it would some how limp along to this Christmas regardless of the fact that it was totally made of fresh, live foliage. Needless to say, it did not, but now very ably reflects my feelings on this Christmas. That was as far as I got with Christmas decs... I may try again tomorrow... I may not.

By lunchtime I realised I had a decision to make. Do I go to the dinner party or do I 'cry off'?

For those of you who know me well, know that I do not back out of invites of any kind. I'm a social animal who loves the company of others, even better if there's a glass or two of wine involved. I love my friends and spending time with them.. apart from Oli, it is.. was, one of the most important parts of my life. I worry that being a widow might put people off inviting me to things and therefore want to accept every invitation that comes my way.

Being new to the area and going through massive life changes such as Oli being ill and then passing away makes forging good friendships more challenging than normal. Understandably, people shy away from the temperamental woman prone to crying whenever husbands are mentioned and so therefore I tend to overcompensate by trying to be strong and not mentioning death, my sudden change in circumstances or anything to do with grief in general. To be fair, most days it is easy to be 'normal' and actually easier to be like my old self with new friends. It's the people that knew Oli and I really well that it's harder to be my old self with. I don't know whether that's because they evoke too many painful memories or whether I just feel it's wrong to be jolly and carefree with them... either way, it's easier to temporarily forget my circumstances with newer friends. Anyway, although I knew I was feeling sorry for myself which its the most self centred and indulgent of all feelings and one which I loathe, I knew I couldn't be trusted not to 'have a moment' this evening and so sent my apologies and crossed my fingers that they'd understand... which they did, of course. In fact, they were so lovely in their response it sent me into tears all over again which reinforced my conviction in my decision.

So, it is now Friday night. I am in bed with a Rhodesian Ridgeback (who is a complete bed hog, by the way). Please don't judge me about letting my dog sleep on the bed... I have very few comforting things in my life right now, but she is definitely one of them. My bedroom has damp on the walls which grows by the day in this weather and I'm looking forward to the day when the house renovations are done and I can retreat to a dust free, damp free house to close myself off away from the world. But until then, I am hoping that at the end of every dark day a brighter day dawns. I'm rowing in the morning so will need to be full of hope and vigour!

Whatever happens though... I will not post again until I have something funny, uplifting or joyous to report. It is Christmas afterall. (P.S. It may be a while 'til the next post - but hopefully not!)