Transitioning

Just as the summer sun transitions to the light of autumn, my heart and mind are also transitioning. Like the garden, every day is different. I can only believe what I see and feel. Yet one minute, I want to believe only what I hear. What I see doesn't necessarily match what I hear. What I feel is hurt beyond comprehension.

My physical self is also transitioning. I have no appetite for anything but dairy, fruit and, thankfully, the fresh tomatoes from the garden. One minute, I'm anguished; my entire being aches with sadness, loneliness, shame, fear; the next, I'm so angst filled I can barely sit still. I go back and forth between compassion and contempt. I feel remorse and disappointment, and anger that neither one of us took the steps that could'a, should'a been taken. How excruciatingly sad.

I do know I have to reclaim my life. It feels very hard to do under such different, difficult circumstances.