ERNIE AND ERNESTINA: Searching

Book Two, Chapter 253: A Balancing Act

Last night Tom, the white-haired gentleman I chanced upon at Sky Hill, who knows that my husband died almost two years ago, asked me how I was coping with this Reality. “Not so good,” I said.

Today I think: Wait a minute. Is this a truthful answer? Or is it just a ploy for sympathy, playing the sad little girl again who’s in need of help, love?

The truth is, I am better. I no longer roll back and forth, moaning and groaning, on the floor. I no longer awaken with my inner legs covered in sweat. I no longer scream into a pillow. I no longer sleep until two or three in the afternoon. I no longer hesitate to answer the phone. I no longer decline all invitations. I no longer scribble under a tree. I still follow my mantra: take a bath every night, get up every morning. Good habits help.

When I write, I’m able to be honest with myself. Honesty with others is not always there. I need to remember the brain science: it takes six seconds for the brain to register complex emotions.

Give myself those six seconds. In fact, give myself even more time because I’m so inexperienced at really listening to others and responding to them appropriately and honestly. Sometimes I need overnight or even another day. Or another week.

This Humpty-Dumpty who sat on the wall and had a great fall is putting herself back together again, and in a new way. The egg is beginning to balance herself.

This is progress. This is Big Progress.