June 2004

I’m numb. It’s a good thing. But I don’t want to write, or think, or talk, because the numbness can’t last. I want to hold onto it as long as I can.

Weak women have always annoyed me. My brothers used to get mad at me, for yelling at some ditz on TV who wasn’t smart enough to smash her attacker with that lamp she just put her hand on, or to bring her knee up and run like hell while he was still on the floor.

It’s official, it’s been a month. I can’t believe it’s been so long, on the one hand. It still hurts like–well, the first few days were pretty numb. It still hurts like the first week, though, definitely. On the other hand, it feels like I’ve felt this way forever. I can understand how perfectly sane

Other than read and otherwise distract myself, I haven’t done a damn thing I didn’t have to do, for almost a month. Even taking Hope to the zoo yesterday counts as a “must,” since I am a mommy, and she deserves all the joy I can give. It’s not like I enjoyed myself. She got

We used to go out to breakfast every payday. I have direct deposit, so first thing every other Friday, we jumped up, threw clothes on, and went and had breakfast. Then I’d run him home, and Hope and I would be off. He’d call me all day long, and we’d plan what we had to

Today has exhausted me. All day I’ve seesawed between rage and peace. Rage because it’s beginning to look like the whole reason CPS was so extreme with us, is the case worker is new, and went overboard. I can’t say for certain, of course, but I do believe had we dealt with someone more experienced,