Decisions are hard to make, the smallest chore seems mountainous, what were normally joyous things are not, things that used to bother me badly don’t bother me as much any more, I have never defended myself well, but now I can't find the energy to even try to very much. Let them say or do what they will. To pretend takes too much effort, and I seem to need so much rest but am not getting any real sleep,,,just dozing off in my chair off and on. I would love the solace of sleep. Nothing matters except getting through the days and the dark, hateful nights, and keeping Zach's needs taken care of.
No one can really help; it's something I have to get through myself. If I try to talk about him, I find myself breaking down in tears. I just want him back and I'm dreading the holidays so badly it even hurts to breath sometimes. I know I'm not alone with my loss but I don't know how to help others with their pain when my pain is so raw in me now.
I know it will get easier, Dear God it has to. I just ask my wonderful friends here and through facebook to please don't give up on me. I'm trying, I promise I am.
I think after 40 years of marriage James and I fit together like a pair of old, ragged, comfortable slippers. You know the kind, really getting rough around the edges but also soft from years of regular use. I could sometimes read his mind, he could always read my looks. He was the good guy because most of the year he was never at home long enough to be, or want to be, the bad guy so guess who got that job?
I've been reading some of my past posts and this one made me smile (you might have to scroll up to the beginning of it.) You've probably read it before but I hope it makes you smile again even if you have.
I almost did a perfect face plant yesterday,,,I reckon if it weren't for my big boobs and front it wouldda been a sure winner.
I started falling when I tripped over Zach's flip-flop at the front door and managed to keep my wobbling balance for a few feet before gravity took over and I fell, face first, and skidded the rest of the way into the dining room with my boobs, belly, and knees taking most of the friction. I ended up with my head sort of beneath a chair at the end of the table, gasping, cause it knocked the breath right out of me. After I could breath again, but before I moved much, I started praying to the Dear Lord that no bones were broken because I sure didn't like the idea of having to lay my big, ol, fat, lazy, a**, in that floor until Zach got home from school. Prayer and a little luck worked cause after a little, much moaning and groaning I was finally able to get some leverage to get to my feet.
I arose this morning with less soreness than I expected and only a bruise or two, and there's only a little carpet burn on one knee. I'm sure a lucky old broad; having this extra padding might have been good for that one thing at least.