Saturday. Weekends are becoming the worst days ever. Larry was home weekends. Saturday was also a morning in bed, then on to chores or errands, and sometimes a drive. This Saturday, I cannot stop crying. I am Not Having a Good Day. I miss him, I miss our home. This house, empty and alone, is not home enough. But is is all I have.
Yesterday afternoon I had lunch at Tona's with another recent widow. It was nice to get out, we talked about our spouses. It was pleasant. I did not cry. I came home and went to bed early, watched some recorded TV. Deleted all the Dr. Who. I just didn't care to watch it. I am bored with myself, frustrated that I cannot banish grief.
Got a letter from Lonny. I will write back, but not today. Today sucks.
I got out my little address book. I want to send holiday cards. They're all so fucking cheerful, I cannot stand it. I feel sick to my stomach. Merry? Happy? Joyous? No, that is simply not so. Not this year. Larry never paid attention to cards, coming or going. I'd read the occasional newsletter to him, and show him any pictures, but he was not into it. Meh. I was, but declined the years I was ill. Now? I want to reach out, but it is literally making me want to throw up. Dammit.
I'm entering a new terrain of tears. The lows are becoming very, very low. I will ride it out, but this fun ride is so much not fun at all. Worst rollercoaster ever. No actual rollercoaster has made me want to puke, but this Emotional Ride is working overtime. A closed loop.
I think I need a cup of tea, but that will make me cry too.
Yesterday afternoon I had lunch at Tona's with another recent widow. It was nice to get out, we talked about our spouses. It was pleasant. I did not cry. I came home and went to bed early, watched some recorded TV. Deleted all the Dr. Who. I just didn't care to watch it. I am bored with myself, frustrated that I cannot banish grief.
Got a letter from Lonny. I will write back, but not today. Today sucks.
I got out my little address book. I want to send holiday cards. They're all so fucking cheerful, I cannot stand it. I feel sick to my stomach. Merry? Happy? Joyous? No, that is simply not so. Not this year. Larry never paid attention to cards, coming or going. I'd read the occasional newsletter to him, and show him any pictures, but he was not into it. Meh. I was, but declined the years I was ill. Now? I want to reach out, but it is literally making me want to throw up. Dammit.
I'm entering a new terrain of tears. The lows are becoming very, very low. I will ride it out, but this fun ride is so much not fun at all. Worst rollercoaster ever. No actual rollercoaster has made me want to puke, but this Emotional Ride is working overtime. A closed loop.
I think I need a cup of tea, but that will make me cry too.
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