Coping (Or Lack Thereof)

Sometimes I convince myself that I'm doing okay.

I go spurts without tearing up...and I'm okay.

But that's only because I've managed to momentarily forget.

To push it out of my mind.

To pretend. .

I've done more laundry in the last few weeks then I've done in my entire life.

The dishes are done.

I force myself to cross things off lists.

I play the distraction game whenever I can...

And even when I talk about it..it's facts, it's this, it's that. It's not emotion. I stay on the other side of the emotion train...because it's a train that likes to pick me up and take me places that make my heart break.

Like when I'm cuddling my puppy, and I realise that my grampa will never show up with his pockets stuffed with cookies for him ever again.

Or when I pass by one of the places we use to grab lunch or dinner at..and just sit and talk...

The pictures that surround me..remind me of so many happy times...

The fact that I will never get another hug or an 'i love you'.. has tears streaming down my face.

That all of those things make me stop and make me realize. They make me realise those times are only memories now..

And it breaks my heart. Over and over and over again.

In the scrapbooking asile in walmart, I get teary eyed.

On the phone with a friend, I can't talk because I'm silently sobbing.

And the shower, I think about conserving water and showering simply in tears - I'm convinced that is the best place to have your own personal breakdown - no one ever knows and your tears just wash themselves away...

Well, no one knows until you post about said breakdowns in the shower on your blog that is.

Whoops.

It's not any easier..this state of numb avoidance...

But I like to pretend that is.

Maybe THAT is my coping mechanism.