Well, Christmas came and went.
And thankfully it is over. Oh my, I am so beyond thankful it is over.
I am thankful for all those who helped distract me on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
I actually made it through, I think.
Or at least it seemed that way.
I wonder what next Christmas will be like.
Will it be worse?
Will the reality of the loss truly be there?
However, on the twenty-sixth, I felt worse than on the two days prior.
Maybe because it was over?
Maybe because I was so well destracted?
Maybe the crash back to reality?
And today, I feel even a little more worse.
Today I am back home and I just want to sit on my sofa and watch mindless TV.
I want to pet my cats and be alone.
I do not want to wear real clothes and I do not want to look pretty.
I just want to sit and cry.
I want to hide.
The worst part of today and yesterday was the wacked and disturbing dream I had last night.
I dreamt that Roger was alive and well in present time.
I had got fired from my job for some reason.
We were standing facing each other discussing how we were going to handle it.
Roger was being super supportive.
He said maybe it was time for us to move.
Then we laid down together to snuggle so he could comfort me.
The weird/wacked/disturbing part is we were suddenly in the actual bed I was sleeping in which happened to be a twin bed.
I suddenly felt very crowded.
I felt his very hot body heat.
I felt him holding me.
I woke up in a panic at 5:49 am.
I hate dreaming Roger is actually alive.
It is the worst feeling ever.
It scares me beyond belief.