I had a fantastic day yesterday - my brother and his family were up for a visit on their way through and I was haulled around a dinosaur museum by a precocious 5-year old. It was amazing.
This morning I woke up feeling like I'd been hit by a truck. I was sore and had a huge headache and felt just generally very "off." I thought I'd been a little too social, maybe spent a little more energy than I'd had. Likely a little dehydrated.
Periodically, throughout the day, a wave of Sadness would hit me and I'd sob and say something about being so very tired. By the third wave I was wonding what in the world was going on.
Two years ago my dad was admitted to ICU in an attempt to help him fight off covid. Last year my body's reaction correlated with the 15th of the month, the date we left mom & dad in Calgary and came back home. Last year's was similar to today's experience - an unsettled feeling that burst out as a geyser the moment it's identified. Then, once the pressure is released, comes the settling back in and recovery. At least, that's what anniversaries look like for my body.
I was frustrated with myself for not being able to do any writing this morning and was trying to be content with the little bit of editing I got done. I was annoyed that I was so socially tapped out that I had no energy for anything fun. I couldn't understand why I was so very very exhausted and was wondering if I was really just getting that old.
Isn't it funny how understanding can provide so much more compassion?
I'm proud of myself for how much I've been able to accomplish while my body remembers the grief. One day I hope to be better at providing compassion to myself without needing to understand first.