being in pieces

So today was therapy day. Yuck. i couldn't help but cry. i didn't intend to. i don't know what i thought would happen. i knew we were going to be talking about the 17th, and how i handled it. i even brought my written journal with me to show Sandy. She wanted me to read it to her. i couldn't, and i broke down.

The rest of the hour was me trying not to cry, and not being very successful at it, and Sandy reminding me, that it was a safe place to do it, and a good time to go for it. Still, i fought it. i just didn't want to cry any more. i thought i was done with it for the month. i thought i was "over it". i was wrong. Even now tears are streaming down my face.

i am still so angry about His dying. i am still so angry about not being able to go and visit where His ashes were buried. i am still so angry about not knowing the results of the autopsy. i am still so angry with the way some people in the "community" handled His death and their needs. i am still so angry with all the lies i knew He told me. i am still so angry finding out all the truths He hid from me. i am angry He left me. i am angry i am alone to raise the MIT. i am angry i can't even listen to His explanations. i am angry about loosing a part of me when He died.

And i am sad. i am sad, sad, sad, sad. i don't like feeling sad. There isn't a "reason" around being sad. There is a "reason" around being angry. i just can't justify being sad. my brain just doesn't compute it. But sad is what i feel. So i guess i have to get used to it. i guess i have to get used to feeling sad. At least for a little while.