I’m backsliding. I have been trying so hard to be positive, to squint to see a hint of dawn in this moonless, starless night. I’m not able to do it. This is the lowest, most lonely, and most helpless I have felt so far. The first week was more varied emotions, but I had disbelief comforting me like a warm hug. The shock is releasing its hold on my brain, which is obviously not the brightest if it thinks I’m ready to fully absorb the magnitude of my loss. I yearned for things to be different before. Now I know they can’t be and am starting to feel just how empty inside I am. I have no idea how to recover from this. I have no plan to get through. I have nothing.
Despite this, as promised, here is the positive of the day: A friend came by and helped me with the small dead tree in my front yard and helped me assemble the puppy’s large pen I’ll be putting her in when I am leaving the house more. It was very kind and so appreciated.
Finding the pieces 