A year came and went.  I couldn’t write. 

This is slowly killing me. 

I’ve bargained.  I’ve begged.  I’ve cried.  I’ve screamed. 

I’ve tried to be a pillar of grieving.  But I can’t breathe.  My heart feels like it is suffocating right now.  I watch the world move on one day at a time.  I don’t want to move on with it.  I want my family.  All of them.  I want to go back 15 years ago.  I want my children home.  I want everything to be normal.  I want to call my mom and for her to know who I am.  I want to call my father and not have him tell me of all the people visiting him at night when he is falling asleep… those people including his parents.  Who have been gone 30 years or more. My dad is dying and I don’t want him to. He has spoken to me twice now about MAID . I told him I understand and I’ll support him if that is what he really wants. But I don’t want him to die. I’m not ready. Is it wrong to make it about me?

I want my life back as it was…. before Sam died. Everything feels so bleak now.  I wake up.  I go to sleep.  I wake up.  i go to sleep.   How many more wake ups? How many more sleeps? Until I don’t have to any more.

The alcohol is kicking in.  And the pills.  Tomorrow is another day.