I do not remember how many days it has been – and I feel horrible about that. I wake. I exist. I go to bed. The pattern repeats. David has taken care of all needs, so I needs must do naught but cushion myself.
Part of that has been cleaning and changing things in the house. Two new desks. The old one she sat at gone. New chairs. The living room rearranged. Her bathroom scrubbed & reorganized. The kitchen changed a bit.
This is good right? I should not look at the things that constantly remind me of her, of her loss, of the massive presence she has always been in my life. If this is true, then why do I keep thinking that we are simply erasing her? I do not want to live in the past but I do not want to live in the present either. I guess that brings up the constant issue of my not wishing to live at all. It solves so many problems.
- You would think this would change my general attitude on suicide… but it has not. First, I do not mourn Grammy – as she was suffering and i do not think anyone should be forced to suffer, where my mother’s death was sudden and shocking and she was suffering no more than normal (I cannot claim she had the greatest quality of life).
- I know that killing myself would put David and others through what I am going through now… but I stand by the fundamental principle that – as I would be dead I would not care – and I am, in essence, a selfish human being who would spare myself this suffering at their expense. Hey… know thyself.