lone ranger

i'm not okay.

this is probably the answer to why i can't sleep, why i can't focus, why my shoulders are rock hard from stress. i thought i was doing considerably all right this whole time. until lovro left for belgium.

he won't be back for another two weeks, and every day i'm wishing time would fly fast so i can cuddle my little teddy bear again. it's more apparent to me now that while I'm trying hard to keep myself together it is ultimately my son whom i draw my strength from. him being away from me now exposed myself to my vulnerabilities. my mind cannot be at peace. lovro's presence reminds me constantly of why i am (still) alive, and that is what sets me straight.

for the past few months i tried to keep myself busy in order not to fall apart, and it helped me so far. or so i thought. now that lovro is not here and i have a lot of "idle" time, my wandering mind kinda took control of me. i cannot stop thinking. about anything. i worry about things that normally i can resolve if i just act on them. i jump from one travel plan to another. i do at least two things at a time - all the time (in fact i am working i.e. assisting a developer - as i write this). the most annoying of all is i'm always tired but i can't sleep.

it's not like I'm being hard on myself either. i go for kickboxing class, take a dip at the pool once in a while, go and hang out with friends, even pamper myself with facials and massage and such. but the anxiety just won't go away. i wonder if it's because i'm actually repressing my emotions - because i tend to do that when i get hurt. and this, is clearly beyond 'being hurt'. it's magnified like a million times. but i let myself be sorrowful and just stare into nothingness once in a while too. i'm not always pretending to be this strong girl who can take on everything. i break down once in a while. but i realize there are things to do and that gives me a reason to get out of bed everyday. 

yet since there is no 'framework' or 'methodology' with processing grief i often second guess myself if the things i do are actually helping me. because i don't know what 'helping me' actually means. does it entail doing things that would keep me going? because i do that. i still have a passion to live, to see my son grow up and be a great guy. does it mean dealing with my grief by crying more often or talking about it more? because whether I'm crying or not, i am dying inside.

all i know is that for now, i need my son.