Things Have Been Hard

I have so much to say and feel like I'm under so much pressure (from myself) to post a "good" blog entry since it's been so long. So I don't say anything at all, and more time goes on, and more pressure builds up. This "never-good-enough syndrome" was one of my main focuses in therapy, Before. It's on the back (way back) burner now, obviously. But it's still there and some days I'm sick of it. 

 Story of my life

Story of my life

So this entry will not be good, will not be eloquent, will not address the horrific state of our nation, will not be insightful. It will break the silence because that is what I need.

I miss Atticus. I miss my little buddy, my Wiglet, my Diddle Dumpling so very much. My heart will never be full again.

 This was a few months after his ptosis surgery.

This was a few months after his ptosis surgery.

His brothers start school tomorrow. I love them with all of what is left of my heart, but that doesn't change the fact that Atticus isn't here, and frankly I'm tired of people telling me to just enjoy them and focus on them and such. I love them. I am doing my best. I'm not going to require them to replace Atticus in my heart. Just as there was room for all three of them when they were alive, there is room for all three of them now. I can rejoice at their accomplishments and mourn Atticus at the same time. I do, every day.

 At Wheeler Farm, on Eclipse Day. The last time they rode this ride, Atticus rode it with them. Damien remembered that. Everett probably did not, but said he did. They rode it, and the memory of Atticus rode along. That is just our life now.

At Wheeler Farm, on Eclipse Day. The last time they rode this ride, Atticus rode it with them. Damien remembered that. Everett probably did not, but said he did. They rode it, and the memory of Atticus rode along. That is just our life now.

My Once and Future Home is still not completed. It recently failed the four-way inspection my contractor had been saying we were "almost at" since early June. Apparently failing is common, and since this is the inspection of the electricity (along with plumbing, framing, and HVAC), let me tell you how good that makes me feel.

(Zero. It makes me feel zero good. I am seriously contemplating buying ridiculously expensive "smart" fire/CO detectors because maybe that will save us from this ever happening again. Like, the dollar amount is predictive of their sensitivity level or something.)

 I sent this picture to my insurance adjuster last week after he told me they wouldn't pay for landscaping because, if I water it, the lawn will come back. Now we're getting a landscaping bid, thank goodness for the State Insurance Commissioner.

I sent this picture to my insurance adjuster last week after he told me they wouldn't pay for landscaping because, if I water it, the lawn will come back. Now we're getting a landscaping bid, thank goodness for the State Insurance Commissioner.

I cry often. I'm way more functional than I was, but I don't really feel any happier. I got the boys and myself everywhere we needed to be, on time, all summer. If you knew Pre-Me, you're like "well, of course". If you knew After Me, when Damien was late to school more often than not, that's quite an accomplishment. And I've kept more and more social obligations/arrangements and even made a few of my own initiative. And sometimes I laugh. But I just have no joie de vivre. I am sad. Damien had been very vocal about how unhappy it makes him when he sees me being sad, and I don't blame him in the slightest. (He also still asks me for another brother. My heart, oh my heart.) I am tired of being sad. I think I will be sad forever.