i don't think i ever would have allowed myself to become what i feel i have become. although if i allow for the pain of grief, maybe i am becoming consumed by it. and yet what is the opposite to that? i need to grieve. but i only want to grieve, and things that get in the way of that seem to hurt physically and emotionally.
i dreamed last night that i hugged my sister. she called me to her and said let me hug you and we hugged and said thank you to each other for sharing our time growing up as sisters. it was beautiful and i wish i could have stayed asleep and not woken up. when i awake the agony of things is unpleasant, and a messy house, or bickering children, or thinking of things to do to pass the day seem like insurmountable mountains of nastiness and stress.
what i find quite horrible is that i feel much better when no children are around me- and i have three which doesn't help! i just want to be left alone and yet the incessant whinging doesn't stop. it is like having a gun placed to the head which keeps on firing and firing and firing and firing but i am still alive.
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