Sunday, June 13, 2010


 Breakdown - Aug

I'm having an anxiety attack, I think. I can hardly type for shaking and I feel scared and weepy all at once. It has been coming on all day. I'm preparing for our trip, and I'm also getting the van ready to sell. Is it the trip? What am I afraid of? Is it getting rid of that fucking van? I hate that thing. It only reminds me of Clint being sick and and I can't wait to get it out of my garage. I always get worked up over trips, but not like this. And I thought I was doing so much better - phoned a friend I haven't seen or talked to since Clint died, found an old high school friend on Face Book and sent her a note. That was big shit for me. I've been turtle with my head pulled inside my shell, and when I finally peek out and make contact, I fall apart. No kidding. If I weren't editing my every word, this post would be gibberish. It's pretty much gibberish anyway. I'm angry again, really angry. I noticed that coming on during the day also. I thought I had been as angry as I could ever be, thought I had fought back that demon. But I want to scream and cry and run around in circles and throw things, break things. My poor dogs don't know what to do, so they are curled around my feet trying to make me feel better. Wonder when that will be. I wonder what "better" feels like. Some days I don't think I will survive this, this life without Clint in it. I know in my head that I will survive, but I know equally well that I will never be the same. How do I learn how to be me without him? I know people do it, but HOW? I feel as though a part of my soul has been ripped away, leaving a jagged ridge that will never heal. And the tears, the waterfalls of tears. I can hardly see to type, have to keep stopping to try to dry up. I can't do it. Not now. I'm going to try to do some yoga, then climb in my bed a cry myself to sleep.

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