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2003-11-17 - 7:43 a.m.

Today is 31 days since Bobby died. I feel like someone else has been living my life. Everything seems unreal. I really expected to be handling this better than I have. We talked about his death, what I should do, what had to be done, where we were financially, all of the important stuff. Said our I love yous and I will miss yous, had all those painful conversations. I have only recently realized that even with everything going on with Bobby, even though he was so sick for years, even though I sometimes resented the hard hard work of caring for him, somehow I just thought he would still be here for longer. He went so far down and then rallied so many times that I just really thought he would rally again.

People say such stupid things to me. I know they are trying to help, trying to be comforting, but I just want to scream at them. I am so angry. I am trying to do the right things, going to A.A., going to church, went back to work, cleaned out the closets, even gave up the master bedroom to Kim and moved downstairs. I feel like a sleep-walker. I feel like a bitch. I feel completely and utterly lost without him. I miss his humor, miss his bitching, miss cooking for him and caring for him. I miss his hugs, his body next to mine in bed, miss hearing the same ridiculous jokes for the umpteenth time. I can't make a decision, even something simple like picking out a color to paint my new room. I bought the first bedroom set I saw and what was I thinking? If God is really so good, then why is he so cruel?Why did Bobby have to suffer so much and why did he have to leave me. I feel like an open wound. I am bleeding and everyone keeps sticking their fingers in my wounds.

I know this will pass, I know I am strong and able and competent. I want to get good and fucked up, want that sweet oblivion, release, want to be very fucking comfortably numb. I just don't ever want to raise my hand as a newcomer again or I might just buy a bottle and go for it.

I am doing this shaking thing. It starts in my stomach and spreads out to my chest and then my arms and legs and then my fingers and toes and then I get hiccups and then a pisser of a headache. People keep asking me are you ok? Ya, I'm just fine, I'm ok, blah blah blah....Really I am and will be ok.

 

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