5 months out.

I have to admit, the 5-month mark was infinitely more painful and miserable than the one month mark.

Why is that, I wonder?

This week I've spent hours in bed - not really sleeping, as such, just laying there, missing you and wondering why this had to happen.

I - stupidly - reread one of my medical textbooks. Yup, the section on congestive heart failure. I couldn't help thinking "Oh sweetheart, you never stood a chance".

Retrospect being what it is, I do know that doing so made it worse.

Then again, perhaps that's the masochist in me.

(Bad Joke Alert)

Masochist: Hit me, hurt me!
Sadist: No......

Anyway.

We're now almost into June, and there are still times that I just cannot - will not? - comprehend that you're not here. You'd think I'd be used to the emptiness, the pain, the sheer agony of waking up without you. No, no I'm not used to it. I'm not sure I ever will be used to it.

Again, I've had a friend say to me, "Oh, hon...I know how you feel. My divorce was just awful".

No, hon, you really don't know how this feels. Divorce is a LOT different. I've done that, too.

Grief isn't loss OF love.

Grief is loss IN love.

Admittedly, I'd never want her to actually understand that difference. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy, either.

I'm going to have home-made curried shrimp, and a large rum and coke.

Know why?

Because I can.

(That's another thing. I have money. I hate that - the ONLY reason I have money is because you died. I fucking hate that)

I miss you, Wombat.

Sigh.

It's just pants. It really is utter pants

Fuck me.

I'm not a stupid gal, as a rule.

But fuck, I wish I knew why I can, in the space of 10 minutes (let alone 10 hours, or 10 days)...

Smile

Laugh hysterically at something genuinely funny

Sob so hard my teeth feel like they're going to fall out

Get so pissed that I want to scream, shout and pull out my hair

This sucks!

(Congrats Tess, for stating the obvious again).

I want to hide under the covers and never get out of bed.
I want to scream at your brother and sister and ask them why they thought it was "ok" to be so cruel.
I want to ask them, "Where were YOU?!"
I want to not hurt.

This hurts more now than it did initially....though, to be honest, I suspect this has more to do with losing Mam so soon after you, your Dad and my stepdad. That's why I feel like I've taken a million steps backwards.

I knew - know - that CHF carries a ridiculously poor prognosis; my background told me that before I even had the chance to do the usual "Most Likely To Google" thing and look it up online.

I just didn't think it would be so soon.

I wasn't ready!

I WASN'T FUCKING READY!

IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR!

Fuck.

I actually kind of enjoyed today.

The weather was beautiful - I think we hit a lovely 75. (We had snow two weeks ago...but c'mon, this IS Fargo, after all).

I went down to the hospital, and was greeted with many hugs by Sue, Cynthia and Julie. They've more or less taken care of me there since you passed, babe.

Treated myself, in the gift shop, to a little silver necklace. There's a square pendant, with a little pearl dangling from it. The square bits says "Do The Impossible".

Given that I've lost you, my Mum, your Dad, and my stepdad in the space of these last 16 weeks...I thought that was kind of apt.

And I'm smiling.

I hate that you're not here with me. I hate that I have had to join the Young Widows BB. I hate that I'm here alone. I hate that I can never touch, smell, taste or feel you again.

But I'm glad that I got to love you. I'm glad that I got to know you.

I'm glad for you, Rob. I'm glad.

Love you, Wombat.

Urgh.

For whatever reason, I've spent most of the last 24 hours in tears. I actually cried myself to sleep last night.

I did see the doctor today though; in addition to the thyroid, cholesterol and migraine meds, she prescribed me Celexa, an antidepressant. I was reluctant at first. But, then I thought about it a bit more.

In 16 weeks, I lost my soulmate, my mother, my stepfather and Rob's father. How the flying fuck are you meant to deal with this?!

I mean holy shit. I know I'm not the first person in the world to suffer the loss of someone beloved...but hell, FOUR people in that time frame?!

Come ON!

I'm hurting. I'm just hurting so very badly.

I can't even begin to put into words how much this hurts.

Shit.

In the midst of dealing with Rob's death, and the death of my Mum, my stepfather and Rob's dad too...I seem to be caught in the middle of a family spat. A few members of Rob's family are fighting over what should, or should not, be theirs by rights.

It seems to be...bizarre, to have this reduced to a fight over possessions.

Look. I know that Rob's brother is grieving. He's suffered two deep losses in a very short period. And I know that Rob's stepmother is grieving the loss of Rob's father. By the same token - I just can't be in the middle of this fight over what Bob did, or didn't leave, to either person.

I just can't.

My Mum's funeral was today. Here obit is here

I couldn't make it, because of passport issues. Or rather, lack thereof. My passport expired in 06, and the earliest I can replace it is May 21.

I keep thinking, "It's not fair". But what IS fair?

May 2, 2008

I do feel as if I'm in the midst of a hurricane.

I need to refill my thyroid prescription, which I think is making my moods a little less than stable to begin with. But even taking that into consideration, I'm just bewildered.

Never in a million years do you think you're going to deal with so much in such a short period of time.

I think I was about coming to terms with, accepting, the fact that you're really not coming home any more. When I walk into the apartment, you're really never going to be there waiting for me, and you'll never snuggle up with me again.

Ok, no, perhaps I'm not there yet.

Carrie came over yesterday; she's so concerned about me. She literally told me "Tess...please....just please try and eat correctly, and sleep. Please don't try and do anything else. Don't work, don't go to any interviews this week, just please attend to yourself. This is almost too much, and I really need you to be very careful that you don't lose yourself".

That's why I don't think Mam's death has really hit me yet. Of course I've cried...but I think I'm still in shock. I'm devastated that I can't attend the funeral; my family also shielded me too, by all accounts. They knew Mam was sicker than I understood, and thought because I'd just lost you, hon, that it would be better for me not to have to worry about things there, too.

To be honest, I really can't put into words how I feel.

Lost. Alone. Devastated. Confused. Upset.

Sigh.