A Dip in the Road

I am at a big crossroad. Not a nexus. A crossroad. Or more like the caves of Moria, where the path has three paths to choose from. I hesitate.

I am afraid of what is happening to me. I am depressed. I want to cry but I can't. I shake. I need coffee, but I'm trying to cut down on it. It's the gas, you see. I burp a lot of gas on a bad day. And that hurts. I've got medication for that.

There are some people I would want to have talked to. Or with. One just got out of the hospital for an operation. There is one other, but I have tried to set an appointment for about three years, and no go. And then there's this language instructor I know, who I cannot get myself to talk to. It's complicated, I dearly want to talk to her, but I can't. We decided not to see each other with exception of coffee. But things broke down after that. She hates me. The best I can hope for is that we can meet sometime in the future. For coffee.

There's only one other person I talk to about it right now. The words are seeping in and I am trying very hard to move forward and out of this funk. I have to get up and look to working and to take care of my family and my friends.

My natural hardheadedness keeps me from understanding things which I am hearing. And that includes the things I say.

I'm having a difficult time. I cannot concentrate on my work. I am dying. I am going crazy.

It's this time of year when I sorely miss Lilia. I miss her a lot. I've had ups and downs during Christmas. But it was bearable with Lilia. She handled the Christmas lists and the shopping.

Sadly, I have wanted to cry since late August. A good cry. But it hasn't happened yet.

I am coping. I am now making breakfast for my kids. Waking at 4:30 or 5:00AM to cook breakfast.

Lilia takes care of a lot of things. Not least is the budget and the school opening and Christmas shopping. She cleans the house. I live here but have not cleaned it as much as she did. She took care of us. I miss her a lot.

I feel I am dying. The pain is back.

There's the five stages of death: anger, denial, bargaining, depression and acceptance. I have accepted that she is gone. But only now is anger seeping in. And the depression keep coming back. Ano ba???!!!!

I am trying to keep it together, and not show it for the kids. But it is very painful. I guess the pain shows as well.

I can go on and on with this rant. This is a stupid cycle. And the best I can do is do one task at a time.

--Andoy
16 Dec. 2008