I woke early this morning in tears. And it took a bit to understand the why. [This post is all about me, trying to work through those tears. Nothing at all about retirement transition, so feel free to move on! Why am I posting? In the hope that someone else knows that they are not alone with the waves of grief that loss hits you with. ]
I recently read about (another) blogging buddy’s choice to stop blogging. And while I fully understand her rationale, it feels like another loss. I will miss her voice in the blog-o-sphere. I will miss the inspiration she provided me with her approach to life’s challenges. I will miss her insightful and supportive comments on my own life challenges. The loss made me think of other blogging buddies who have made the same choice, and how I still miss many of their voices, years later.
That was the start of the slide into thinking of loss. I started to think about other voices which are no longer in my life. And these losses, the holes in my life, were the source of the tears.
- The local friends who have chosen to physically move away because of the hurricane challenge of where we live. I miss their physical presence as they were ones I would say, “how about doing this?” and they’d be, “yes, let’s do it!”
- There are the physically-distant friends who my connections with seem to get further and further apart. I tended to be the instigator of those connections, and my mental load is just too much these days to try and make a connection happen. But there are a couple of fractured friendships there that I just don’t have the mental energy to try and fix (and yes, that means apologizing as the fracture went both ways).
- I also struggle with mental load of creating social plans – the logistics and the tracking for larger gatherings, the reaching out to “sorry, I’m busy” for one-on-ones. So, my local physical connections are not happening either. More holes.
- There’s a dear friend who recently lost her fight against cancer. I recall having a conversation with her, as another cancer survivor, where she commented that every time she felt an unusual twinge in her body, she worried that her cancer was coming back. And yes, it did. Yes, I worry, too. I went to call her the other day; yes, I miss her voice.
- There’s my mom, who was the one I used to talk about all life’s challenges. I miss her tremendously at times like these, when I’m down on myself.
And so, I’m feeling the losses; I’m feeling sad and lonely. Yes, there are others whose friendships I am developing, but there are still holes in my life. And this month is showing those holes on my calendar big time. Yes, I know I am supposed to embrace the “time to just be”. But I also dislike the space we are in, for many reasons, so just being here is not a comfort. And the new house progress continues at a snail’s pace (absolutely no forward movement all week.)
I’m tired of being the strong one; tired of being the planner. I’m annoyed that all the work I’ve done on my mental health recovery (and all the steps I continue to take!), still leaves me feeling this way – feeling needy, lonely, weepy. And guilty, because my life is pretty good, who am I to complain?
Of course, the take-charge, resilient part of me took over with creating a list of “things to do to love yourself”. Because when I’m down on myself like this (feeling needy, lonely, guilty), I am certainly not liking, much less loving, myself. It was a reminder of all the things I am doing. (My inner voice is screaming, “But why isn’t it working?” My response was just keep doing them!). It was a reminder that I need to give myself permission to be sad and the physical release of letting out tears can be a calming release of tension.
I will relook at my Jolts of Joy list and add something indulgent and rewarding to the June calendar. I will write out a gratitude list, celebrate my small wins, maintain boundaries I have established, and keep going to cardio drumming and yoga. I will consciously recognize that we are building and decorating our home in ways that feel authentic to us (even if it is taking longer than desired). I will try to have more patience with myself. And really, really try not to just take on additional distraction projects to fill the holes!
If you were to add something indulgent and rewarding to your June calendar, what would it be?
Copyright © 2026 retirementtransition.blog – All rights reserved.
retirementtransition 
Pat, all those things really do add up to a good cry! And nothing to be down on yourself about, either. We always think we should be able to juggle all the balls and keep them all in the air.
I signed up for a two-hour art class and a writing course (7 modules self-paced), just for the heck of doing something a little different creatively.
LikeLike
Eilene, a really good reminder that I usually have a “topic to research” in my mind for the summer months. Or a course to take. Nothing has filtered up on that yet, but I need to think on it. Our super hot days are coming.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Grief hits when and where it wants. A rolling wave that takes precedence over all else. But it is a wave and it will move on. Good your are still doing counseling.
I love blogging for the words I write and the friendships but many are moving on. As to real life friendships…soemtimes even with being the planner… they can die out and that is always sad. Take care of yourself and here is a hug.
Self indulging for me is sitting up late late at night watching the glow of twilight move across and watching the northern lights..I LOVE June.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Bernie, thanks for sharing (it’s helpful to know I’m not alone in the feelings) and thanks for the hug.
I envy you being able to see the Northern Lights. It was on my bucket list, but our trip to Iceland for it resulted in rain every single day and night. It’s ironic as well that since I moved away from Ohio, they have now been visible there a number of times. It’s why I’ve moved it from “is on my bucket list” to “was”. It is probably not going to happen.
I actually prefer later summer sunsets as they get more colorful as we get the “Saharan dust” in the sky. That and listening to the cicadas, which have just started their nightly serenade. The new house actually has a west facing balcony for that exact use – sunset watching! Not as soon as I want, but soon.
LikeLike
Northern Lights can be difficult to see for sure. I am pretty darn lucky and I always appreciate it. Your cicadas would be (in spring) frogs for us and (in summer) the bloody endless crickets that have been infesting our house in the last two years. Sunset balcony — sounds wonderful! Hang in there as it will happen. Bernie
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hmmm. Been thinking along a similar vein as I am forced to confront hubby and I are getting older. Photos with family that has passed on have an edge of sadness so I now understand my father-in-law ‘s decision to remove photos from display. We get tired faster so projects take forever. Indulgent June – taking a Sur La Table class.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your picture comment reminded me… I realize another “straw in the camel’s back” on losses happened just last weekend. It was our anniversary and on FB, everyone seems to post their wedding picture and a current one on their anniversary (I love those posts actually!). We lost most of our wedding pictures. I’m not sure where some saved ones might be in storage. So that hit hard as well.
I do like the idea of a cooking class. It’s been a long while since I did one and I almost always enjoy them! Not Sur La Table (that’s in Tampa and a 45-50 minute drive!), but I’ll need to check for something closer.
LikeLike
Big hugs, Pat! I’ve recently come across Care of the Soul by Thomas Moore, and it’s helping me navigate some new waters. Possibly it can bring forth new light to you as you continue to unfold. Sending you much peace.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for the book recommendation. I do enjoy these types of books and have put it on my TBR list! Thanks also for the virtual hug – they do help.
LikeLiked by 1 person
i’m so sorry that you are at a low point. It sounds like you’ve experienced a number of difficult losses that are compounding your sadness. I wish there was something material that I could do, but with the distance between us, about all I can do is commiserate and offer positive energy. As those of us who are “experienced” know, the clouds will part and the sun will shine once again. Here’s hoping it’s a short storm.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s good to “hear your voice”! Ugh, that storm reference is a bit challenging given we just entered hurricane season here again. Yes, we are very aware locally of this time of year – they have already noted the possible first storm (way out in the Gulf, no impact expected for us, but still).
I do appreciate your comments and the positive energy. It’s been a long 21 months (not that we’re counting) and triggers on loss still can get me spiraling. I do know that there is an end to the build and that feeling of being no-where. I also do expect a fuller acceptance of the losses will continue to emerge.
LikeLike
It’s hard. Not gonna say it isn’t. But you have shown amazing resilience. I think about quitting blogging all the time. I just can’t quite pull the plug. I appreciate your voice and honesty. I am also the planner/doer, and it wears on me. But it’s just a thing. We can do it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks for the vote of confidence… yes, we can do it!
This is why I’ve stuck with the blogging… the vote of confidence, the reminder of my resilience, the appreciation for my voice. Thank you. It really is appreciated.
LikeLike
Hi Pat – this just popped up in my email box and I wanted to say that I’m sorry you’re feeling so down. I too miss a lot of the blogging voices who’ve come and gone, and also the IRL friends who’ve moved on. My blog post today is about accepting that my life is smaller, and that it’s okay to not be so social……but I feel this is a different situation for you, and that there’s more going on here.
I’m wondering if you’re experiencing some PTSD and/or depression from all that you’ve been through over the last few years? Have you spoken to a doctor or a counsellor lately to process it all? We often try to push through and “logic” ourselves out of these seasons, but sometimes we have to admit that it’s not enough and maybe there’s more going on that might need some intervention. I’ll leave that with you and once again, I’m so sorry you’re feeling so down. Sending you a long distance hug. x
LikeLiked by 3 people
Leanne, Yes, reading your post, I too felt it we are in different places. I do appreciate knowing how you are accepting of (and enjoying) the smaller life space. Maybe someday that will be me too.
It is definitely PTSD and yes, I have been seeing someone. I talk with her about once a month, and she was away last month, so I’ll be seeing her again this week. It has helped me process much of the loss/grief and triggers. I am in fact much better with some of the triggers! This spiral into loss of people was a bit surprising to me. On top of no house movement, it was a double whammy I think. And to be honest, all the virtual hugs have actually really helped. Thank you for providing your perspective… it does help.
LikeLiked by 1 person