Transcension

I joined the boxing gym the other night and became an official member, committing to going there every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. I canceled an audition I had for an upcoming musical. The two things I am focusing on for the next while are my school work and boxing.

I love the workout. It’s nothing like I have ever experienced before. I don’t even get to do the fun stuff until I get through the first part of my workout, which consists of jumping rope for 9 minutes, stretching, drill work (very difficult), and a medicine ball workout (extremely difficult). After, and only after that, I finally get to box. First I stand in front of a mirror and shadow box, practicing form, then I get to don my fabulous blue Everlast training gloves and punch the heavy bag for nine minutes before spending another six minutes sparring with the double-ended bag. After a bout with the speed bag, it’s off to the matt for sit-ups and then I get to go home. the entire workout takes two hours. I am exhausted and euphoric when it’s over. I love it.

School is difficult this semester, but so far, so good. I passed in my first Statistics and Analysis in Psychology assignment and passed with flying colors. Ugh. The material is very confusing and makes me want to cry. It’s really nice to cry about a trivial matter, for a change. My history class is lovely. There’s tons of reading to be done, but the class is only six weeks long (4 to go) so by the time I feel like beating myself to death with my own text book, the class will be over. I love my life when I’m this busy. I’m beginning to feel like the “old” Robin, the pre-Chris Robin and for the first time since Chris got sick, I’m starting to be able to feel good about that with minimal guilt.

I have been reading another great book by John E. Welshons entitled Awakening from Grief: Finding the Way Back to Joy. I could not have found this book at a more appropriate time. It falls on the heels of my reading, Man’s Search for Meaning by Victor Frankl, which was written by a man who survived the nazi war camps and lived to find meaning in all of his suffering. The book has helped me find meaning in my own suffering and now this new book is helping me see and feel my experience from a more transcendental vantage point.

I am a person who has experienced a cataclysmic event in my life. My husband came and then he went. His presence in my life was sheer bliss and his absense is crushing. But his job is done. He came and did what he was put here to do, and then he left. I am here to do what I am supposed to do and then I will be allowed to leave, as well. That’s the way it works.

I am feeling better these days, and although I am attributing some of my progress to Zoloft, Clay reminds me that Zoloft can only do so much and that I am the one who is making myself feel better. I know he’s right, but nevertheless, the guilt I feel from “walking away” from my husband remains. I believe, in time, I will overcome that exhausting part of my grief. When my loyalty counted, I didn’t walk away. I stayed for as long as I wanted and needed to see Chris through his last dark years on earth and I know that beneath all of his fear and pain, he appreciated my prescense. Was it enough? Did he love me? Did I help? I hope so.

I guess I’ll finally have the answer when it’s my time to go.