Random update/musings

It's been a while since I've posted. I'm losing count of how long it's been since Greg died, which I sometimes take as somewhat of a good sign. It's been just over five months (who am I kidding, I haven't really lost count). And how am I doing?

I think I've been too busy lately. Traveling a bunch (Bologna Book Fair, Sedona and Grand Canyon vacation, was in Chicago for Book Expo America a few weeks ago, and am in Pittsburgh right now for three nights. Am doing the NJ SCBWI conference next weekend, then off to Orlando for ALA later in June, then California for the LA SCBWI Annual conference at the end of July/beginning of August), busy editing some late books, juggling creative and administrative work, and trying to wade through my 1,700-and-growing-work-email inbox. (Apologies to agents, authors, and coworkers for whom I've become a black hole. I'm hoping it's temporary.)

I've started training for the marathon in a less-haphazard way as before. Trying to do some long runs on the weekends. Ran my second ten-mile run of the month yesterday, and felt great doing it. I'm running a half marathon on June 18.

I've been going out almost every night--work events and hanging out with friends. Seeing plays (Eclipsed was particularly excellent). I'm in Pittsburgh right now hanging out with friends, and am seeing a Beyonce concert tomorrow night. #Lemonade!

More huge news: I sent in my contract and deposit on a new condo that I'm in the process of buying. Feeling excited thinking about starting a fresh, new life there, but also really sad that I'm doing it alone, without Greg. (Thank goodness for my cat, at least.)

This post perfectly captures this push and pull of emotions I've been having recently:

And still, running underneath all of that is such a deep, pervasive sadness. Knowing that the work I do now is happening only because my love died. Knowing that the people I’m meeting now, the friendships and professional relationships I’m building, are happening only because he died. If he were here, other beautiful things would be happening. If he were here, my life would be so different.

I can't help but wonder all the time, What Would Greg Do? What Would Greg Think? Would he approve of my choice for a new condo? Would he worry about me living there alone? I get particularly pensive when I travel, because I become hyper-aware of the circumstances under which I've been able to travel again.

I've been thinking about starting to date again, too, and it feels daunting and scary (but also a little exciting). After Greg died, I set an alarm on my phone for six months--June 25. "You will love and be loved again." Greg had told me that he assumed I would be "broken up" for about six months after he died. Once again, I'm thankful that Greg was clear to me about his expectations--I don't have to worry/think too hard about What Greg would want, what he would think. In some things, I know, and that gives me a little bit of peace.

How I Mourn, How I Cope

Greg always marveled at what an amazing project manager I am--mainly because of how well I was able to manage the logistics of his illness, all while working a demanding job. Being an editor is basically being a project manager, so I've had a lot of practice! I've realized recently that I've been, in a way, project managing my own mourning. In case this might be helpful to some, here are some of the things that have helped me cope:

-Breathing. Deep breaths.

-Focusing on each and every moment. Instead of going through the motions, I try to focus on each motion, no matter how mundane.

-Keeping busy, especially on the weekends. Friends have been good about reaching out to plan outings, and I've basically been saying yes to everything, but I also don't hesitate to do my own reaching out. When I want/need to schedule my weekends, I do. And it's been great to reconnect with friends I haven't seen for a while.

-Keeping busy, but not TOO busy: leaving myself some time to be alone, to grieve, to cry. And know that it's okay to feel sad. I don't want to avoid my grief. Also, a friend told me her therapist said that intense emotions generally last for 90 seconds and then subside. I haven't actually tested this theory, but it's a good reminder that "This too shall pass."

-Going to a Meet-Up group for widows and widowers under 45. I didn't know what to expect, but it turned out to be really great to connect with others who are going through the same thing.

-Reading. A few friends sent me books on loss (Healing After Loss and How to Survive the Loss of a Love--thank you Caroline and Christine!) and most nights I read a little before bed. 

-Reading blogs and listening to podcasts: I've also been reading some blogs written by widows or widowers. This one in particular. I've also been listening to the "What's Your Grief" podcast, by the women who run the website. Their post about secondary loss was particularly enlightening.

-Writing and journaling. I've always kept a journal, and I've been writing in it a little more often. Blogging a little more, too!

-Exercising. I've decided to run the NYC Marathon again this year, and going for runs in the cold winter air has been wonderful. Lots of walking, too, and I'm taking a Pilates class at work.

-Cleaning and organizing, rearranging the furniture in the apartment, getting new furniture. I've kept photos and other wall-hangings the same, but have rearranged the layout of the living room and bedroom (thank you to Rose, Jason, and Kirk!), which for me helps the apartment feel different and my own, while maintaining the familiarity. I've decluttered quite a bit. I also bought this Lumio lamp I'd been coveting ever since I saw it on Shark Tank years ago. It's a book that opens up into a lamp! It makes me happy.

-Getting massages. In general, taking care of myself.

-Brunch! Dinner! Wine! (see "taking care of myself" above.)

-Focusing on work. It was hard at first, of course--working all day in an office is exhausting! I don't know how anyone does it. But, by the end of my second week, I felt like I was really back. It was familiar, and good to focus.

-Doing small rituals. Another organization I'm in the process of joining (recommended by Gwen) called The Dinner Party sent me this article, and I realized that much of what I've done fits into this. Going through Greg's belongings. Listening to the music he loved. I found a woman who makes beautiful "bereavement quilts" out of ties, and I sent her Greg's many ties to make a wall hanging. I saw this "I have done love" bracelet on Cheryl Strayed's Instagram, and ordered one for myself. I wear it every day. It's from the quote: 

When I get to the end of my life, and I ask one final "What have I done?" Let my answer be: "I have done love." -Jennifer Pastiloff

Okay, that's all I can think of for now. 

It's starting to get light a little earlier--I can feel Spring coming! If you have other advice/techniques for coping and healing that you'd like to share, please do.