We got through Xmas fine. We didn't kill ourselves or each other, and that second one was a doozy. I'm being succinct because there is no good way to spend the first holiday without someone you love, and all you can hope for is to not end up plastered and sobbing while watching The Snowman. (Matter of fact, avoid The Snowman all together. It's depressing no matter what.) And with the one year anniversary coming up i'm trying hard to occupy myself so I don't end up as mentally scrambled as I was this time last year. But again, there is no good way to do that. Remembering is depressing. Acknowledging the fact of the day twists the knife. Swallowing your feelings gives you another pain in the pit of your stomach.
But I have been occupied for the past couple of months with moving into our new offices. Of course this isn't the good kind of occupied. It's the fretting over what didn't get done and dreading the first day back with an office full of boxes kind of occupied. But I suppose being annoyed with moving services, dumbfounded at our lack of privacy in the new place and near homicidal at the fucktards who keep putting their boxes on top of mine to be thrown away, eventhough I cut up or flatten my boxes to make the housekeeper's job easier and they don't which makes me look like the asshole is better than being profoundly bereaved.
Of course it doesn't feel that way. Sometime ago, two or three months I guess, I started napping in the afternoon. Not a 20 minute power nap or a one hour refresher. A three or four hour REM sleep affair. I've also been really, really cranky lately. I can't decide if i'm just stressed from work and it will pass or if my meds need adjusting because the depression is back. But where do you go from 60 mg of Cymbalta? And what about my recurring migraines? Related? Not? Who knows.
But I have a three day weekend ahead, a new project and hopefully some rest and peace.