Meet bitter Brenda.  I am happy to say that, for the most part, she doesn’t show up until the bad timing of others.  It’s not their INTENTIONAL bad timing (although it feels that way) it’s more or less that I would rather not be bugged or asked any questions during times that I feel pissy.  Today = pissy.  Don’t ask me to make a decision, a correction, or to review something you’re sharing with me.  I don’t have time.  No, that’s not true.  I don’t have energy.  I’m angry.  I don’t want to be dealing with the emotions of the third year.  I don’t want to know that it will be 3 years that Kevin died on Friday.  So, whatever you bring to me right now that interferes with me dealing with THAT tidbit of life?  I don’t have time for.

Hypochondriac.  What felt like a 2 minute dizzy spell during my tutoring.  I KNOW I didn’t make that up.  I took my pill later than usual, but it was on a full stomach.  Oh no, now my head hurts.  Sinus like.  Not going to look at a computer screen tonight, maybe I’m straining my eyes?  Crawl in bed.  Heart beat races.  Dammit.  I really SHOULD schedule that appt.with a cardiologist about my SVT.  I think it’s getting worse.  What if I have a brain tumor??

Empowerment.  Whooooo doggy, I can take on the world.  Why DIDN’T I take that full time job in Montana, maybe then I could have gone far in the company and provided for Kevin and I?  I could’ve done it.  Tonight, I’m going to writer’s group and I’m gonna finish writing the last memories before Kevin became sick.  I’m gonna plow through so that I can show a publisher my first draft. Oohhhh yeah.

Anti-EVERYTHING Skeptic.  Facebook is not working properly and it’s ruining everything.  My spam filter sucks.  I’m going to ban technology from my life.  I hate these ____ a$$holes.  You’re causing me problems, I’m banning you too.  Why did you send me an email?  You KNOW I’m grieving, blocking you too.

I hate change.  Salted caramels?  NOPE, don’t even want to TRY them!  Who would want to screw up the delicacy of a caramel?  Not me.  I am not going to give into this craze like I do everything else.  Just give me what I already know I like, and enjoy, and don’t change it.

Survival.  I made it through all of this and I’m still alive.  Recalling WHAT I went through I feel guilt, devastation, but still, I am here.  And most days, I am happy.  Hmm…I made it.  Right?

Success.  This could be because I realized I survived, or it (more than likely) has something to do with the fact that I finished the writing portion of the memoir last night.  Something to cheer about, celebrate, in the midst of approaching the 3rd anniversary.  Success, reaching 3 years without dying.  Without killing anyone.  With friends and family mostly in tact.

Every anniversary has brought with it so many emotions so quickly that I barely had time to breathe.  Most times, I ended up in near panic attacks trying to field the emotions one by one.  While I still feel them, I let them roll into me, and roll out of me as quick as they come.  I try not to hold onto them as they hit me.

Welcome to the life of a griever during the week of a sad anniversary.