I’m not sure that I have much to say at the moment (just wrote a long journal entry), but today is one year since I had to take Matt to the ER for the first time. I caught myself trying to avoid thinking about it after work, so I made myself sit down with my journal and write about the day. I think I feel better now; at least I feel like I’m not suppressing anyway.
I read over a journal entry from a year ago too, after I was finished writing. The old journal entry is what really got me crying, because I was talking about how horrible I imagined losing a husband would be. I said that I don’t know how people deal with that kind of grief.
It’s been a fucked up year, people. I know, it could have been worse. There were some happy months in there – for me anyway. But overall, it was extremely stressful and expensive and scary and disheartening and painful. I had so much hope through all of it too – I wish I could have shared that with Matt somehow.
Anyway. I’m not looking forward to Matt’s birthday.
No Promises This Time 