As anyone suffering from depression knows, isolation is a huge symptom or part of the disease. I seemed to have had an ok week last week. This week not at all. I think it truly began with discussing the headstone and bench design. The man at the cemetary was not helpful. He apparently knows nothing about nothing. I’ve been worried about that everyday. It’s something so important and expensive. It can’t be half-assed.
Then, I finally worked up the nerve to call the coroner’s office. It’s now called medical examiner in case you need to know. She wouldn’t let me speak to the case manager, but was nice enough to tell me the results were in. She mailed me a copy that I received Wednesday afternoon. I wanted to know so badly, but didn’t want to look at them alone. Doing all of this without her dad or a husband is rough. I need someone I can count on to hold me when I’m crying and even remotely try to understand my pain. I took the results to school with me Thursday and a dear friend was going to help me read them. I opened it and read the first sentence and put them up.
Friday my phone rang and Madelyn out of blue wanted to know if that was her Mommy calling. I lost it. I couldn’t handle one more thing. I just crumbled.
Since Friday after church (I made myself go), I have been hold up in the house with the girls. Now it’s Sunday night and I have to prepare for another week. Work, therapy, church, groceries. The only bright light is my boy’s birthday. I’m heading to see him Saturday.
I’ll recap the other issues from last year and Dallas’s stay in the hospital later this week.