I’ve been feeling not-quite-myself lately. So has DD. We were talking about it the other night (one of the few evenings when we were both home at the same time).
She, the English Lit Honours grad that she is, expressed it far more articulately than I, but basically both of us have been feeling lately like we’re not truly here all the time, that we drop in briefly, then we beam out again. We’ve been feeling like spectators in our own lives more often than not.
It’s not that physically I’m unwell – although last week’s bad neck from the dryer door bonk to my jaw was certainly a physical ailment (but two chiropractor visits later, the neck was pain-free again). I haven’t felt depressed or upset or worried or anything like that. I’ve just been … kind of on edge. Kind of distracted. Kind of uninvolved. Disconnected.
Then during a phone conversation with my mom on Saturday morning, she mentioned something about the three-year anniversary of my dad’s death coming up. I vaguely knew it was coming at the end of January, but couldn’t quite recall the exact date and I didn’t want to ask Mom because that sounds pretty stupid, forgetting a date that significant in your life, don’t you think? So I looked it up in my files.
It’s today, January 26.
I think that even though my conscious mind didn’t remember precisely, my subconscious mind sure did, and that’s what’s made my mood so weird lately. And DD’s brain is likely working the same way, as she was extremely close to her “Papa”.
So now that I have this understandable theory as to what’s going on, maybe I can get back to normal now.
I’m off to Unbook Club this evening to not talk about books with the wimmin. That’s pretty normal, isn’t it?