Sad Sunday

I spent today working on my RFR. It kept me distracted, but my hip pain kept focused on the fact that nothing seems to be helping. 5 days after the cortisone injection no relief.I start crying at my desk, exhausted from the pain and just tired of it all. Tired of working so much, tired of limping around and hurting everytime I move, tired of the oneness of this widowed life. I have no one to share this with. I cared for Chris for years and now I am left alone to face whatever....surgery, more pain and an uncertain future. I don't feel like I want to die, that feeling is less and less, it just so overwhelming to be totally on my own for the first time in 30 years.
I concede to the pain and take 2 percocets. It makes me tired (usually it has no effect) I decide to lie down. I have to call Lindsey first, I was to join the Shrayers et all to watch the sinking Patriots. I call, Kevin answers, I beg off, he understands. I sink into bed......exhausted, it is 1 pm, the day is sunny. I close the shutters that Chris put in for me; to finish the Caribbean themed bedroom. I remember the day he finished them (they were a lot of trouble to install, he had to customize them... and spent so much time getting them right). I had wanted them for so long, I hate curtains and blinds and we had none in the house, but something was needed in the bedroom to cut the light and spare the boatyard across the street from any peep shows while we were dressing.
The day he finished them*
I remember it longingly and start to cry, from the memories, from the pain.....the physical pain and the emotional pain co mingle. They mirror each other, like an infinity mirror. It is impossible to see which one is the beginning. Which one is the catalyst for the other. They reflect each other and intensify each other. back and forth back and forth, hip, head, heart, hip, head, heart, throbbing hurting aching and screaming for attention.
I fall into bed, and pass out quickly, I must have been so overwhelmed it is as if my mind just shuts down, like the kill switch on a computer.
Two and a half hours later I wake up. It is almost 4 PM. The waning sunlight strains through the shutters. I cannot believe I slept this long. Aurora was with me the whole time snoring and radiating heat.
I am not sure what to do, check the Pats score? Call someone? I am slightly disorientated. i wish I was disoriented enough to think that my life was back, some widows have that I don't. The awake and they forget that their husband is dead just for a few moments in the morning. How delicious that would be, just to have a few fractions of a minute of relief, even delusional relief. But I am not granted this. I struggle out of bed and head to the back room, Chris' media room. I have simply moved from bed to couch. I watch mindless TV. LifeTime of course. The channel for those with no life. I sit there for hours in a stupor, watching a movie I had saved on the DVR. It is crap. But there is nothing else right now.Tthe movie ends and I limp back to bed. I can't believe that I can fall asleep again, but do. Unable to face the rest of the day, but not wanting the next one to begin.
I am exhausted from doing nothing but fighting the throbbing hip and aching heart. It is like a full time job. n top of my already overflowing schedule. But this is like spilled coffee on a calendar. It seeps into every unused space and fills it up. It surrounds the scheduled time and seeps into other commitments. COloring them with the darkness of of the reality. It is everywhere inescapbale. It spreads from the workday into the night over to the weekend and into the to do list. There is no space anywhere in the day that it cannot reach. No wonder i like to sleep, I never put that in my calendar, maybe that's where I can hide from the river of sorrow.