Shrouded

I am viewing the world through a thick veil or fog. Maybe more of a smog. It makes it hard to see, but it can also choke me at times. It is hard to see happiness through it. I cannot take a deep breath, both for the toxicity in the air around me and the, once again, chronic back pain caused by the constant level of stress. Shallow breathing makes it hard to laugh. My eyes sting from the acrid smoke and tear up with little provocation. I cannot tell if I am moving forward or walking in circles. I cannot see if this cloud is little or gigantic. I don't know if it is stationary and I can walk out of it if I could find my way, or if it is clinging to me in such a way that I cannot escape it. Tiny little things that used to annoy me now weigh me down so heavily that it is almost physical. I have to consciously fight their grappling to avoid falling into the pit they are trying to drag me into.

I am trying to evaluate the causes of this toxicity so that I can resolve it. There is the constant stress of the mundane. Normally, I can deal with that, but it's all heavier now than it used to be. There is, what I hope will become a temporary stress, from Daddy's death. Supposedly that weight will become lighter. I am looking forward to that day. Other toxins are building even now. I can feel them settling into my bones and veins as if they were heavy metals. 

I am disoriented. I don't know which way to go and I am afraid to trust my own judgement right now because the world looks so different than what I am used to. My perception is skewed from what it was, but is this new perception wrong? Or am I seeing what has always been in a more realistic light? I feel small. I am scared. When the things you thought were forever have eroded, what can you rely on? 

I always try to come to a conclusion in my blog that is positive. I want a happy ending. I want to find the light in the darkness for both myself and others who may be going through similar circumstances. I don't want people to just read a chronicle of events. I want to help. I want to uplift. I can't do it. I have sat here looking at the screen. I have re-read all I have written. It's so short and not helpful. Should I even post it? 

If you are reading this, then obviously I posted it. One reason I did is on the off-chance that seeing where I am today will resonate with someone else who is here and doesn't want to be alone. It is lonely here. Maybe there are others lost in the smog, too? Another reason was one listed in "Finding Meaning: The Sixth Stage of Grief." David Kessler says that we have to go where the grief takes us, when it takes us there. We cannot dictate where it will go or how it will get us there. He also said that grief needs a witness. We don't want anyone else to have to feel our pain, but we need someone to recognize the love that was lost. I feel that. A third reason to post this is that someday, when either the smog has dissipated or I find a way out, it will be my "before" picture. And finally, I am posting this because I can't say it out loud.