Grief Makes You Hungry and Tired
Dozing between doses of comfort food…
What is it about grief that makes you so tired, and why in Lucifer’s reach does that exhaustion not occur at night when I’m trying to sleep?
Since learning of my Mom’s death on Monday, I have dozed off every afternoon like clockwork.
It’s been the damnedest thing.
Then at night, when I really could use 7 or 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep, grief is keeping sleep at bay.
For the last two nights, I woke up every half hour. Finally, at around 1:00 am, I give up and stumble out of bed to start my day.
Yeah, it’s only 9:00 am, and already, I’ve been up for 8 hours.
Then there’s the need to devour my body weight in comfort food.
Have you noticed that whenever people talk about comfort food, they always mean junk? Ice cream, pizza, McDonald’s – comfort food never consists of healthy stuff.
Nobody on Planet Earth has ever said, “Gosh, I am filled with grief and sadness. I think I’ll make a lovely mixed green salad and bake some gluten-free breadsticks.”
Instead of eating my usual healthy meal of roasted vegetables with pan-seared salmon or steak, I’ve been living on Trolli Sour Brite Octopi and the gigantic stromboli I ordered from my local pizzeria on Monday.
In short, my grief has allowed inertia to get me in a headlock.
My brother texted me the other day to ask if I got my lawn mowed yet. I read the text and laughed out loud. Yeah, that ain’t happening right now. I’m lucky if I can summon the energy to clean out the litter box or wash the dishes.
When my best friend Corinne died in 2014, the grief of her passing slammed into me all at once like an emotional tsunami. And as quickly as it struck, it receded, allowing me to adjust to her loss within a matter of days.
But with Mom’s death, the grief keeps hitting me in ever-increasing waves. Just when I think I’ve reached the crest and am heading for calmer waters, an even bigger wave wallops me like a donkey kick. At this point, I wouldn’t rule out taking Dramamine.
Eventually, this tempest will pass and I’ll learn to live with the grief of losing my Mom.
But I think will take a little effort on my part.
So today, I plan to resist the siren song of the Daytime Doze, return to my daily workout regime, and force myself to eat a healthy meal at dinner — whether I like it or not.
But I’ll keep the Trolli Octopi in reach. Because if I learned anything this week, it’s that I really like those damn sour gummies.
Any road.
Wish me luck!
Dear Dianny, I was and still am dealing with the devastating loss of our only child just about 3 years ago. He was 31, had moved to Chicago and found a nice girl, and he seemed to be on a positive trajectory. The coroner declared it was an accidental OD of fentanyl. I got together a couple months ago with my best friend, and as we were catching up, he showed me care and compassion. He’s always the funniest and smartest guy in the room, so this was decidedly a different behavior for him. He relayed a personal story, so I was very interested. His mom was in her mid 40’s when he was born and those two were joined at the hip. She died several years ago and he found himself in a deep and dark hole. His G.P. wrote him a script for a relatively minor anti-depressant, Wellbutrin. He said he tolerated it well and that it helped him think more clearly. When I got back to town, I made a beeline to my G.P. and told him the whole story. Without hesitation, he started me on Wellbutrin with a follow up in a week, then again in 2 more weeks. He has adjusted the dosage and, now some 2 months later, I can say that it has made a welcome difference. I’m a big fan of your musings, and I’m so sorry you are so broken hearted.