why? ....why not?
My birthday was wonderful. I spent the morning with friends, I shopped in the afternoon, I spent the evening with my family (and watched the first quarter of the Bombers' practice match), and the night was spent getting plastered with my best friends. I love you all.
The next day, however, was Phil's one-year anniversary. After spending pretty much the whole of last year in suspended animation in regards to my grief, the floodgates have all but burst open and I have been in tears most of the time, and if not crying, I am in depression mode. This is the hardest thing I have ever had to deal with, and I don't think I am dealing with it at all. Crying is good, in a way, but not enough. I feel about to explode. My head will not stop with the irrational thoughts, man. Usually I can get some of them out into physical form, but it's not working this time. I cannot sleep unless I have a) taken a valium, b) cried to exhaustion point while on the phone to Lifeline, or c) got myself completely tanked. Because the emotional stuff isn't being dealt with, I'm getting physical symptoms, which just make things harder.
Blah blah blah blah. Whatever. She's just whinging again, taking everything too seriously, overreacting, catastrophising, making things seem bigger than they actually are. Suppress, Sarah. Get over it. You are not a teenager anymore. Not everything is a drama.
SHUT UP.
Come on Alia, lets go for a walk. Everything is normal. I will look normal and happy and everything will be normal again.
The next day, however, was Phil's one-year anniversary. After spending pretty much the whole of last year in suspended animation in regards to my grief, the floodgates have all but burst open and I have been in tears most of the time, and if not crying, I am in depression mode. This is the hardest thing I have ever had to deal with, and I don't think I am dealing with it at all. Crying is good, in a way, but not enough. I feel about to explode. My head will not stop with the irrational thoughts, man. Usually I can get some of them out into physical form, but it's not working this time. I cannot sleep unless I have a) taken a valium, b) cried to exhaustion point while on the phone to Lifeline, or c) got myself completely tanked. Because the emotional stuff isn't being dealt with, I'm getting physical symptoms, which just make things harder.
Blah blah blah blah. Whatever. She's just whinging again, taking everything too seriously, overreacting, catastrophising, making things seem bigger than they actually are. Suppress, Sarah. Get over it. You are not a teenager anymore. Not everything is a drama.
SHUT UP.
Come on Alia, lets go for a walk. Everything is normal. I will look normal and happy and everything will be normal again.