Back at the Coffeeshop

A couple weeks ago in my "workbook":

I've been having some bad thoughts again.  The future without Cory seems so vast.  I sometimes wonder what could possibly fill all the time that sorrow hasn't already claimed?  

This back and forth relationship with grief is so reminiscent of breaking up with the love of your life and getting back together, only to break up yet again:  heady euphoria soon followed by a teeth-rattling, jarring crash to reality, complete with all its shortcomings. 

I despise this cyclical pattern- progress rewarded by utter failure, which is, in most cases, publicly witnessed.  What  idiot thought this up?  You'd think you should be able to serve your time, and then be released from suffering.  I feel like I'll be dragging these shackles around with me until some fool runs me over with their car, too.

Angie would say this mindset is a choice, and to that I say, "Geez, woman, I just don't know."  It's an endless cycle, and that gets pretty depressing when you stop to think about it.  I'm not sure how to view this differently if pain is always crouched around the next corner stalking me.

Two days later:

A Personal Inventory

I don't feel good today at all.  I can't think straight.  I have so many ideas all at once, I feel like I'm swimming in them.  I don't want to be around people.  I just want to be home.
I kind of hate everything, but not everything at home when I'm with my boys, the animals, and my art things.  I'm so weary of this whole mess.  Bring her back, already.  I'll give you everything I have.

  Her heart was my home.  I feel homeless.

Thoughts & feelings:  Paranoia, anxiety, fear, stupid, worthless, miserable, out of control, more anxiety, not good, rough, lost, my bones hurt.

Eye makeup can hide a lot.

To be continued...