Let Me Ride On The Wall of Death One More Time
Entry 1 1:15 p.m. Abby and I did some grocery shopping last night, and I decided to buy a small cake to celebrate her birthday. I broke down and started crying as soon as the cake was in the cart. I had a hard time pulling myself together. Abby put her arm around me, and comforted me. I probably cried for 2 minutes, tears streaming down my face, my suffering otherwise silent. I hate this existence, and am grateful for my children. I keep expecting a tsunami of pain. Instead, it is more insipid, this loss, like a slow leak from a third floor bathroom that eventually destroys the foundation. Every once in a while, though, a burst or two sneaks out, a foreboding of what I expect is to come? I don't know. Some days I convince myself I am numb, or not experiencing the pain I expected. Truth be told, I have no fucking idea what to expect. Right now I just feel heavy and sad all over. I hate it, but its true. I feel about as useful as a ballot mailed the day...