June 2004

He left a note! He left a goddamned note, and they didn’t even tell me! The police have had the note for three and a half weeks, and they didn’t even tell me it EXISTED! I can’t believe this. Is it not enough that the man I love was driven to his death by stupidity, […]

I don’t know what it is about Tuesdays. I can’t imagine why it’s the worst day of the week for me. But I know it’s Tuesday by how much my heart hurts, as soon as I’m conscious. I don’t think, “Oh, it’s Tuesday,” and get upset. I hurt, then realize that means it’s Tuesday. I

Well, I got it. $280 worth of Chris’ stuff–two trash bags of clothes, some papers, his tooth brush, and the book for his cell phone. The $700 computer was gone, but I expected that. So was my $50 radio he was using, and his $20 cd walkman. I halfway expected that. I didn’t expect his

I can’t blog. I can’t think. I have to go over there to get his things. I can’t even drive past the effing road without moaning agony. I can’t do anything else, either. I tried to go shopping today, to clear the road for utter breakdown when I get his stuff. I did get groceries.

I’ve got the energy to clean now. Oh yeah. After three weeks of telling me not to worry about it, she’d get Chris’ stuff, my case worker has told me the only problem is the money the manager is gouging, and I’ll need to take care of it. Thanks so much. $265, and no one

I am here. That’s the best I can say. I have used several coping strategies to be able to say that. All are inadequate. Ice cream only lasts so long. Reading works for a while, but too much makes my head hurt. And I can’t read while I drive. That’s when I need help the

If you’ve ever read Douglas Adams, you’ll understand why I feel like the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal. (A beast so mind-bogglingly stupid, it thinks if you can’t see it, it can’t see you.) For those more Earthbound, I’m playing ostrich, with my head stuck in the sand so deep I can barely wiggle my