I don’t know how many other people will get this and sexist as it may sound, I really doubt many guys will.

Today for no reason, throughout my shift at work and the evening afterwards, I was joined by an unwanted companion, following me like a slave in chains taking slow aching steps…

It was the silent, heartbreaking, weighty presence of grief.

I don’t know where it came from.  I don’t know why it came.  I don’t know when it’ll go.

Work with its myriad distractions (banter with the chefs, chit-chat with colleagues, managing a busy section during lunch) all helped me forget at times that it was there.  I would laugh, take orders, have fun…

And then suddenly that heavy sadness would return, pervading my psyche like a thick fog.

To clarify, all my nearest and dearest are completely fine.  I’m completely fine.  And my life is also completely fine.

So why did I spend most of today feeling as though I was grieving?

It’s utterly bizarre and also a touch annoying because who ever wants to be sad?  And certainly, goddamit, not without good reason!

It’s not ideal conversation material with your workmates either, while scraping leftovers into a bin.

“Hey Liz, how are you?”

“Well, you know something, today life seems about as bleak and desolate as if everyone I loved had just perished.  I could curl up in a ball right now and probably sob for the next 6 hours…. how about yourself?”

Awkward.

So I don’t share these details in person – I write about them, after I’ve retreated into my little crab house (for I am 200% Cancerian) to nurse my wounds in private and await the inevitable storm that doth approach (aka have a big cry in bed tonight) which will wash away this heaviness and weariness.

Am I a total nut-job?  No don’t answer that – I already wrote a post about the voices in my head.  Sure one of them is telling me to finish this up right now and to go eat some chocolate.  Not that I ever listen to that one….

Ciao darlings!

Lizzie xxx