"There's nothing here to salvage, and yours is another problem."

Grief, grief, grief.

I've actually googled "how to mourn" as if there was a secret to it that I just wasn't getting. Turns out, if there is, it's still a secret.

Leaving the land of rationality shrinking in the rear view mirror, I think it's my fault she died. I was so determined to have a good 2012, this was going to be my springing-back year, a twenty-years-late coming out ball. I was going to festoon this date change in arbitrary importance, pack up as much of this whole boob saga as I could and move the fuck on.

It should pose more of a problem to force two conflicting beliefs to inhabit the same space, but I'm pulling it off flawlessly. I don't have gods, I don't believe in an afterlife, I don't believe in a universal agenda. But, I also believe some days that things happen to me because I am some sort of angst-magnet. And somehow, that ended up killing my cat. And it breaks my heart, because while I'm totally into the grownup equivalent of getting blind drunk and screaming "hit me" at lightning storms, I never imagined getting clotheslined by one of my babygirls dying.

Gah. Soldiering on, I guess. I suspect that these feelings will ease in time, even if I never stop missing her, and so now I've just got to put one foot in front of the other, until some day in the future I'm not replaying her death over and over again in my head. I know I sound unhinged, but that's a pretty accurate reflection of how I'm feeling.

"There's nothing here to salvage, and yours is another problem."

Grief, grief, grief.

I've actually googled "how to mourn" as if there was a secret to it that I just wasn't getting. Turns out, if there is, it's still a secret.

Leaving the land of rationality shrinking in the rear view mirror, I think it's my fault she died. I was so determined to have a good 2012, this was going to be my springing-back year, a twenty-years-late coming out ball. I was going to festoon this date change in arbitrary importance, pack up as much of this whole boob saga as I could and move the fuck on.

It should pose more of a problem to force two conflicting beliefs to inhabit the same space, but I'm pulling it off flawlessly. I don't have gods, I don't believe in an afterlife, I don't believe in a universal agenda. But, I also believe some days that things happen to me because I am some sort of angst-magnet. And somehow, that ended up killing my cat. And it breaks my heart, because while I'm totally into the grownup equivalent of getting blind drunk and screaming "hit me" at lightning storms, I never imagined getting clotheslined by one of my babygirls dying.

Gah. Soldiering on, I guess. I suspect that these feelings will ease in time, even if I never stop missing her, and so now I've just got to put one foot in front of the other, until some day in the future I'm not replaying her death over and over again in my head. I know I sound unhinged, but that's a pretty accurate reflection of how I'm feeling.