I start this week on not a lot of sleep, aware that things will change and confused and lonely.
Another week closer to his anniversary and one that I know will bring a new chapter for me. Life goes on and people become just a memory. A memory that we have to live with instead of the person.
Events that he would of been at, competitions that he should of competed in. My week is the memories.
Lieing awake at night in the pitch black when everyone else is asleep my mind wanders. And not to a happy place. No one is asking, taking the time and that makes me oh so aware of how unimportant I am.
Between hospital appointments and working with his stuff I need to find that strength and courage that I feel I’m lacking. I know this week will bring tears and the longing to be held in a hug.
I know I’ll probably not have the strength to not resist eating junk food. Because the anxiety and depression have taken such a hold that when my mood reaches this it’s the go to of choice.
I try so hard to start the week positive and start it like a new page in a book, unaware of what it holds
and what the twist in the story I’d going to be.
I don’t know me. I feel like everything is normal, but what is normal?
When ‘friends’ don’t make the effort to even check on you. To be so aware that you don’t have anyone outside family to turn to, not truly. ( even the family asking, feels one sided) Because everyone is caught up in there own lives that they don’t even get in touch and it’s up to me to instigate all the chats.
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