I have the motivation to shower. So I do. But that’s it. I sit here, and look around the walls at pictures of you. I listen to the making of my coffee, and my full but empty apartment. Trying to make a house into a home when you’re not here to fill it is the hardest thing. Some days the pain is so random and searing that I can’t eat because my stomach is turning so bad. The laundry sits. The emails sit. The phone calls can wait.
Why don’t I get to pick and choose the days when this happens? The combination of severe grief and PTSD changes your entire brain chemistry they tell me. It never goes back to normal. Makes me so hopeful. I’ve been told on the days that I go insane with Evee’s case and “fight”, it’s certain hormones responding to stress. I’m on an antidepressant that only helps me get out of bed in the morning. Sure doesn’t help with any depression. Most days I’m unable to feel any “real” joy.
It has been 8 months and there is no sort of normal back in my mind. I love my two living children but they can never make up for the one I’ve lost. I have thoughts that come and go, stress that comes and goes, ideas that come and go, motivation that comes and goes. Please God, give me a little happiness now that can come and go.
I’m alone and I shouldn’t be alone.
She should be here, occupying my days. I had plans, outfits, a future, planned out, and I can’t even remember any of it because I’m so consumed with what has become. Today it doesn’t matter how she died, why she died, it just matters that she died. Today I feel no anger, no sadness, no passion, I feel nothing, and tomorrow will be different.