I am surprised by the physical manifestations of the experience of my niece’s death and the emotional reaction, for lack of a better description. I am exhausted. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally. Simply and overwhelmingly exhausted. I feel as if I am swimming in a fog, but a fog with a density and weight that I have never known. Every movement feels heavy and strained. Every word I read a difficulty, every fact impossible to grasp. Questions in the text make no sense, and my assignments are unfathomable. May as well have been written in a foreign language. Oh, it’s a language I studied once and so I can decipher the meaning upon careful and intense reading and re-reading, but once the translation is done, there is the herculean task of gathering together the resources to answer the question. Was that in the book or the lab manual? Which chapter? Which figure? Everything is ten or twelve times more difficult than usual. The math comes painfully after working the problem over and over and over. Am I stupid? Am I an emotional wreck? Am I somehow unsuited for managing what looks so easy for others?
I feel ashamed of my weakness. Embarrassed by my frailty. I’m behind by nearly a week. At this rate I will have to drop the course and loose $1000. I have to catch up. I have to clear my mind. Compartmentalize. Think, think, think. But I need sleep instead. No, that has to wait. I am determined to catch up today. But it’s already noon and I have spent hours doing minutes worth of work. Sigh.
Back to it. Maybe some coffee will help. I think I will ask my husband to head to Starbucks for me. I’m out of creamer and so far my attempts to make a suitable cup of coffee without it have failed miserably.