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,
That’s his title, not mine. It’s appropriate. To my family I can not stop screwing up. I do not know what’s wrong with me. I know that this is the best way. I have tried and can’t stop. My meds do not work and life is not worth living if I can not be with
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.