Wheel of sadness

When I went into work on Tuesday morning, word went round through the office grapevine that a colleague had been killed in a freak accident. This was distressing news, but it's quite a big organisation. So I didn't know him personally- although he was the boss of my friend K.

Since then it seems a sort of growing sadness has permeated the office. Today's rumour mill filtered news of the funeral- how people were getting there, who was going. Was there going to be a collection for charity. Who had been left with the wretched task of cleaning out the poor guy's desk.

Now that the initial shock has worn off, it seems the reality is beginning to jar, and the ripples are spreading through the office. He's gone, and someone is going to have to pick up where he left off.

I sent my friend K. an e-mail asking if she was OK, and have had no reply. I heard from another friend that K. is very upset.

I am annoyed with myself for being unsure what to do. What to say to her. I worry about how another colleague, who is burying her mother tomorrow, is doing.

And I realised that, despite my time on Infertility Island, where I have come to think of myself as someone familiar with the pain and loss of others, that when confronted with a situation in "real life", I fumble. And I feel just as deeply in both worlds.

I have also realised that lately, I am very sad a lot of the time. I feel like most days I am walking around with an anvil where my heart used to be. Everything hurts. I go to work, and someone has died, and I am sad. I come home, and I read bad, heartbreaking news from someone I care about out there in the blogosphere, and I am sad.

I am sad at work and sad at home. I am like a little hamster on an endless wheel of sadness. And when I try to look forward, I don't see an end to it. It makes me think that something has to change. Either in my life, or else within me.

Because my legs are getting tired.