This morning I woke up. I knew I was off. I knew I was sad. I knew it was a rough grief day before I even got out of bed. Sometimes I try things. I try and make it feel better… the searing pain and the overwhelming loss.
It’s not a conscious decision, it just happens. You know when you feel off and your brain wants to make it feel better. So you try things. This morning I decided to go through with working out as I planned, I thought to myself “You always feel better after you work out, you just need to get up and do it.” So I did. Sometimes it’s food, or caffeine, or a nap, or a distraction, or fill in the blank. Today it was biking and running.
I didn’t realize it this morning. I didn’t realize I was hoping that at the end of the workout I would not feel the searing pain the overwhelming sense of loss. We biked, we ran, and as my work out partner, Alicia, told me we had to run a bit further, I still felt awful and angry so I ran faster, “Maybe I just need to get more energy out.” And then it hit me. He died, Enoch died! I began to cry. The thought continued over and over in my mind “He died.” Occasionally I would say it out loud. Then the realization hit me so intensely in that moment, I was grieving and no amount of working out was going to make me feel better. Needless to say we stopped running and walked the rest of the way back.
Grief is hard because you never know when it’s going to hit. Sometimes, I don’t even know it’s grief that hits. The reality on these days seems unbearable… Enoch died and there is no escape. Today is one of those days.