Out of the cave, I hope.

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This was a difficult weekend.  I never knew I could stay in bed this long, or sleep for as many hours as I have, but maybe I needed it.  I checked the scale and see I’m up seven pounds— bloated probably from all the carbs, alcohol and sweets I’ve consumed— anything to fill this unfillable sad hole.  Still not on meds, still told I don’t need them, that this is a part of the process.  I’m sure this is the case, but it is a process I would rather avoid.  Maybe sometimes we need seclusion.  The step-father asked if he could buy me a ticket to come home and visit for a week, I accepted.  I guess he feels as badly as I do about the loss of my mother.  Maybe one day I will forgive him.  Maybe, one day I will embrace him as my father, but for now I just want to stop drowning.

I miss my mom, yes, I wish she were here, yes, but she is not.  I don’t know when or how I will accept this.

So now I have to figure out how to my mother myself, at least that’s what my therapist tells me.

We’ll see if I come through, or fail in this process.  If I beat the sadness, I know I will rise, if I don’t, I know it could be tragic– not in a suicidal way, just that I will let the darkness beat me, and that the person I was meant to become will never be realized.  Let’s hope I can make it out of this cave.

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