Raw

Writing the eulogy was cathartic in a way, as was another day at the beach which was further brightened by finding a gorgeous bouquet of sunflowers from the Chaws on my doorstep.

All of your comments and support truly move me and remind me that there really is some good in the world. I'm on a whole "the world sucks and resistance to the misery is futile" kick this week, between my dog dying and shit on the news and an image from the war of a grief stricken mother cradling the body of her bloody 6 year old and everyone I know being depressed and seeing people go homeless because of the real estate market crash...it's just hard to convince myself otherwise without all of these heartfelt reminders from people who hardly know me.

I'm still so sad. I feel like a scab that is continuously being picked. An oozing, painful mess. I am so used to my eyes filling up with tears that I no longer bother with the effort to raise my hands to my cheeks to wipe them away and I just have permanent hot salty streaks dripping from my face.

I'm struck by her absence over and over again and my heart aches and my eyes burn and I'm filled with so much regret and sadness and just plain missing her that it just really physically hurts. I feel like when you have a hangover and you're convinced that throwing up would make it all go away but you can't throw up. I just wish I could and that it was all that easy.

Chaw Sherri often references wanting to put on fuzzy socks and cling to her bed like it's a life raft and I alternate between that and wanting to put the house back together since it is frozen at the moment of disaster--garage sale stuff everywhere, dishes piled up, laundry neglected. But when I look around and remember why it's all like this in the first place, I just want to go back to the life raft plan.

Thank you all for being so great. I promise we'll move on to talking about something else soon.