untied

It was sort of a rough weekend. Hub and Daughter were fighting colds, so no one was in a particularly good mood. It was also rainy and gray outside so that didn't help. Now I have the cold and they are getting better.

My emotions have been running high (or low, depending on how you look at it), and I found myself crying in bed for the past few nights. I feel so...untethered, I guess. Like I'm casting about for something to hold onto, to cement me to the everyday. It's an uncomfortable feeling, this flailing around. I guess that's why I am crafting like a maniac. It's not so I can't grieve, because believe me, I am doing that. I spend more time than I've admitted just lying in a crumpled, sniveling heap on my bed with a pile of tissues beside me. I cry in the shower, in the car at red lights, in the parking lot at Target, even right here in front of the computer screen. I try to keep it from Daughter because it freaks her out to see me in tears. Anyway, I create with my hands so there is concrete evidence of time passing. So I can look at the stuff I've made and say, oh yes, I remember. That's what I did for the past X hours, days, weeks. I've started a daily 'Journal of Daughter' as well, for the same reasons. I need to write down all the things we do each day so I will remember the positive things that are happening even while I am so sad.

I sort of knew it would happen, but it still burns me a little how everyone else can just kind of let this drift out of their minds. Everyone else can go on with their lives and pretty much forget what has happened. But I can't. I never, ever will be able to just forget and go on with my life as if there was never a baby Elizabeth.