The Wall

I had a day where I was busy enough not to think too much, and then I felt guilty for not thinking too much. That’s grief’s favorite stupid game. If I’m drowning in it, I’m miserable. If I get a little relief, I feel disloyal. If I laugh, I feel guilty. If I don’t laugh, I feel dead. If I keep moving, I’m avoiding. If I stop moving, I’m collapsing. There’s no clean win state. I used to think emotions could be solved if you got enough insight. Like if I could just understand what was happening, I’d be able to navigate it better. But grief isn’t a logic puzzle. It’s more like weather inside a wrecked building. You can understand the draft patterns and still get soaked. So yeah, today I was productive. Then I hated myself a little for it. Then I remembered the kids need me functional, not spiritually pure. What a stupid thing this is. What a stupid, impossible balancing act.