Physical pain reminds me of emotional pain

I fell up the stairs, carrying my lunch box and scooter as I climbed up to the second floor where to my apartment.  I quickly picked myself up and then made what seemed like a longer walk than normal down the hall and around the corner.  Once inside my apartment with the door locked behind me, I sunk to the floor and the tears started to roll.  

I wasn't seriously hurt, just a few scrapes on my elbow and hand that don't even need bandaids and probably a bruise that will form on my leg.  But the sting I felt on my elbow seemed a proxy for the sting I still feel about how my ex-husband had treated me.  And as I sat there alone, on the floor, I was reminded of the emptiness of his promises.  You know, I wasn't missing him though.  If we had still been together, I would have tended my wounds on my own.  I would have been just as alone even if I felt a superficial comfort to the fact that we shared physical space.

I'm feeling off this week.  I'm sleeping more than usual but still tired every day.  And I'm more restless and unsettled than normal.  I spent more than hour yesterday evening on my "therapy bench" at the local park as I watched the sunset.  My reaction to this fall doesn't surprise me.