On Logging Off

One month ago today I stopped posting on my FB page. I pretty much stopped posting on there at all – I didn’t share anything, I wished 2-3 people a happy birthday (as opposed to the many others I did not – sorry guys), I left only a few comments and posted a thing or two on other pages. Even this blog is only posted to Twitter now. My notifications dropped to mostly game invites.

And no one seemed to notice. And I was glad.

Today is the 9th anniversary of the day my conjoined other half and I became FB friends, so they made us a little video, which I posted to our walls this morning. Then I changed my cover photo to the pic of Hudson and I that I love so, so much.

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That’s not to say that I am back to posting regularly on FB, or anything, though. I’m enjoying the time apart.

Which reminds me, there’s really only a few weeks left of this blog! The end of the year approach-eth! I think it’s safe to say (as I’ve said before) that it’s been a complete and utter fail. Yesterday I actually found the blurb which had inspired me to try and write this every day, too, and while I’m not exactly sure why I’d started off with such a different intention in mind, I do think the notion still has merit. I have a few ideas for what I might try instead, and hopefully any of those will yield better results for me. Because it is supposed to be about improving myself, after all. Why I thought I’d take any steps forward with a blog like this – one which never bothers to even scratch the surface, let alone dig deeper than that – is truly beyond me, but I am glad it’s almost done. I feel like I’ve become so accustomed to NOT communicating anything valid or real that I’m not sure I’ll be able to when I need to, now, either.

Luckily my therapist pushes me, but it’s actually a habit now for me to not push myself. And I rarely see her, so yeah. I’m regressing, instead of progressing, I think.

Hopefully whatever I do next will be more rewarding and positive than this has been. And as always, there’s so much more that I want to do, or even just to try. I don’t make New Years resolutions or anything like that, but maybe this year I can at least work more towards that turning point I seem to be on the cusp of, and really push myself to become a more active participant in my own life. It’ll mean some hard choices, and definitely lots of mistakes and disappointment, but at least it’ll be more mine, and less the facade I present.

If I do anything at all. I guess I’ll see! haha

Distractions

No idea what I thought I was going to write about today. I was distracted by a pizza party for a coworker’s last day, and now I am painfully full and not really inclined to think about writing.

Plus, I have work to do.

So here’s another quote from a book that I enjoyed, instead.

Rima had tried jogging after Oliver died. She thought it would be smart to get physically exhausted. She thought if she were body-tired instead of, or along with, feeling the heavy exhaustion of grief, she might think less. But the effort involved in lifting her feet over and over was too much for her. Later she tried again, but found she’d been mistaken in her primary assumption. All you did when you ran was think. She hated it.”

Now, I definitely have not tried running as a way of dealing with the exhaustion of grief. I can barely walk some days, I feel like, so while I was once a distance runner as a kid, I don’t think now would be a very good time to pick it up again. I’m more likely to wreck myself before I can tire myself out, really.

I have found that physical pain often helps detract from emotional pain, but it’s insanely temporary. Like, getting my first tattoo hurt far less than losing Alysia. Most of it even hurt less than saying goodbye to Hudson. But the physical pain subsided, whereas the emotional pain still remains.

I have been known to attempt to tire myself out in order to not think and feel so much, though. It doesn’t really work for me, even when I push my body further than it wants to go. It’s a distraction, for sure. But the effects don’t last.

I like that this book recognized the different kinds of tired a person can be. I haven’t often seen that distinction, in books, film, television or everyday conversation. I like how true it rang for me.