I’m scattered. Most people would argue that our minds operate on two planes–the conscious & subconscious. I feel like I’m existing on at least a hundred different ones.

One that knows my mother is dead. Another that forgets & wants to tell her something.

One where I feel okay. Another where I feel like I’m on the verge of tears.

One where I remember what I was doing. And another where I can’t figure out why I am where I am.

One that knows this feeling will abate with time, but still remain. Another that can’t fathom such a moment.

One where I know family & friends are here for me. And another where I’ve never felt so alone.

One where I know my mother is with me. Another where I feel like I can’t find her.

Each second my mind bounds from one to the next and then back again. I can’t focus. I can’t figure out what I’m really feeling. I can’t find one word to sum up who I am at this moment. I can’t even find a hundred that would say it right.

——————————————

This first full day on my own is half way over. I slept most of it. I hadn’t realized how tired I was. Had lunch with friends. Went to the market. Struggled to shop just for myself. I no longer know how to cook for myself, to shop for one. Who’s going to eat the other half? Just another reminder. Not like I needed one.

I’m working this evening. Working back into that routine at least. I’m thinking when I get home I might try to do some writing. I’ve been doing this blog, but little other writing. I need to figure out where that part of my mind is, & what it wants to do: go back & work on draft 2, or move onto something new, maybe something about this. I don’t know yet. We’ll see.

I hate this. (It amazes me how I can so completely & utterly hate something that doesn’t feel real.)

Image: DocLanding via flickr

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