Saturday, August 27, 2011

I quit

So, I'm quitting smoking. Again. I'm a little pissed off about it too. I stopped smoking several years ago and managed to stick with it for about five years. Starting up again is the thing that pisses me off, though truthfully I really enjoyed smoking for this past year.

I think I'm genetically predisposed to do things that are not good for me. I do okay most of the time; I don't put really bad things into my body and I'm somewhat health conscious about what I eat - save for a weakness for those little chocolate frosted doughnuts from Hostess. You know the ones, they're bite-sized and leave your mouth feeling like you ate melted wax?

Unfortunately, I'm also genetically predisposed towards being lazy, which means getting less exercise than I should. So the result is that I sit around eating little doughnuts and smoking cigarettes.

So, quitting smoking. Wish me luck. Or maybe start saving coins to donate to my family for funeral expenses just in case I throw myself into traffic over the stress of it.

Friday, August 19, 2011


I stayed home yesterday so I wouldn't have to be around anyone else. I worked; I ate food that I didn't taste; I did laundry that I refused to fold. I thought about getting my life organised, but I couldn't find the motivation for it.

I was mostly okay. After all this time, it's easier to put my mind on other things. The pain is there, but it's easier to ignore. My sense of loss is numbed. What's left is sadness and confusion. I have gotten pretty good at dealing with that sadness and confusion though, so I felt okay.

And then I had a dream last night. In it, we were talking about his suicide. He told me everything; he explained the why of it all, and how he came to make that decision. The things he told me eased my mind, and helped me gain some perspective on how that affected me.

I woke up sobbing, and completely unable to remember the details of what he told me. Those answers I've craved for so long, that I felt like I had for such a brief moment, were gone. The clarity of the dream left me and what I found in its place was a bitterness I haven't felt for a long time, marked by a need for answers that I thought I'd put behind me.

And today I'm feeling all the numbed confusion I felt eleven years ago, when I woke up the day after to realise that my husband was dead and I didn't know why. My brain knows it was eleven years ago, but my heart feels like it was yesterday.

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