Friday Fictions

Oh children, the sound of silence tonight is actually bliss. I am sitting in my house missing Jerry with every passing thought but to hear nothing tonight is a balm. I've had a terrible week and all I wanted to do was come home and sit alone for the last three days.

No, it isn't fun. Nor especially pleasurable. Perhaps a safe haven is a better term. It is like a place where time has stopped. The 29th will mark the 6th month since Jerry died. I cope. I don't want to get up in the mornings. I don't want to go to work. I don't want to do anything. I make a plan to accomplish some things but when the time comes, I have no motivation to do it. I am lonely and realize how very much we were a part of each others lives for so long.

You don't notice it, you know. You get used to it, become comfortable. And then they die and you look down and find half of you is missing. You reach for the sugar bowl and find you have no hand. You turn to share a joke and there is no one there. Jerry loved jokes. He was funny without trying at times, saying something crazy out of the blue that sent me into laughter. Or he would dance a jig. He couldn't dance! It was hysterical. Or he would grin at me acting foolish and shake his head and chuckle. But he died. And there is no jokes, no laughter, no smiles.

Someone told me not to long ago that they preferred the term "passed away". No! No, death left no dignity for us and I will give none to him. Jerry died. There was nothing soft and warm and comforting about it. He died. Suddenly, without any warning all peace was shattered in my house by an unwelcome invader. Even the apostle Paul taunted death. "Death where is thy victory?" he said. Jesus trumped death by overcoming it. I have not found peace in that thought but I will not give death one ounce dignity.

I want to go home. That is the craziest thing I've said in a long time. Mama and Daddy and Jerry are home. And they are not here. I can't go home. There are no words, nothing, nothing, nothing to say to make it better, to make it right.

I do not fall apart anymore. Sometimes I feel nothing. Today, I had a counselor's appointment. He studied me quite a bit, gauging my mood, my demeanor, my state of mind. Well, that is what I'm paying for, isn't it? And he's very nice but I think I puzzle him sometimes. I finally said, "So how am I?" He studied me a minute and then a light came on. "Oh, you're asking me?" We laughed about it. He looked away and said, "Well, I think you're better." I smiled.

I'm better. Yes.

I write fiction.

Lousy Week End Approaches

What a week. I have just had enough. I got back on Tuesday to a mad house. One of the receptionist doesn't much like answering questions, talking to the clients, or figuring out what they want. Hello? Then what exactly do we need a receptionist for?

The boss was out and I was left "in charge" for that day. Which simply means anything that goes wrong is MY fault. Caseworkers had questions, landlords had questions, the receptionist didn't want to deal with people coming in that wanted to see me right then. Never mind if I was on the phone, handling a problem elsewhere. "What do I tell them?"

ASK WHAT THE WANT AND CALL ME BACK!

Wednesday there was a clash with the baby boy. I won't go into it here cause I'm sick of begin yanked around when I don't comply with demands.

When I got home from work, I found that the insurance denied payment of the physical therapy sessions. Since they are expensive I was PO'd. It was after 5 but I called and yelled into the answering machine. Then, this morning I called and chewed out three other people. THEY were the ones who told me the insurance would pay for it. The insurance had told me they wouldn't but after talking with the hospital, they assured me the insurance would pay.

So, today, one of the three people I raked called and said it was a billing code error. I was one of two people that it had happened to and only three sessions had been billed incorrectly. They would fix it and I would not have to pay for it. Peachy. I cancelled my appointments this morning until I could get it all solved.

Said receptionist was being dingy. She emailed me and a coworker with this question. "What time do you go to lunch so I will know what to tell your clients if they come in?"

Now, if I'm not there and you know it is lunch time, what would you say to a client? I'M AT LUNCH YOU MORON! MAKE SOMETHING UP!

My co-worker said she didn't respond to the email and wasn't going to. I haven't either. Folks, this isn't rocket science. It really isn't.

This was not the week for every idiot on the planet to push my buttons. I have maintained my composure at great cost. I'm tired. I'm ready to scream at the next stupid problem. This woman has complained about every front desk duty since she has been here and she does less than any receptionist we've ever had and gets paid twice as much as any of the best ones did. Get over and and do your job! Try to appear as if you were worth what they pay you.

To top it all off, I realize I can't stop being assailed by thoughts, images, feelings, guilt, heart rending pain. Is there no way to get past the absolute horror of loss? It is simply a waking nightmare. You keep thinking today I'll get up and it will be different. I won't think about it. I won't have flashbacks. I won't fall apart or have to clinch my fist, teeth and stiffen my spine to walk across the room, answer the phone, speak to someone. It will be easy today. I'll be able to push it out of my mind.

I'm going to bed.

'Individual mandate' key to universal health coverage

Link

Second nail in the coffin of freedom. The first was when we elected a democratic majority. Get ready folks, this is only the beginning.

You WILL buy health insurance no matter what. Notice the phrase for you who choose to remain uninsured "will be penalized"? This means you will be punished if you refuse to pay for insurance you don't need or want. What are they going to do to you? Tax you at higher rate? Is the reason you can't get insurance because of the money? Well, they'll make you pay another way.

Welcome to America ruled by Demon-crats,

A Good Day for Praying

This would be a good day to pray for me. I'm not well this morning. Getting up was difficult and it has only gone down hill. I just feel sick to my soul and overwhelmed. You ever hear the phrase of a ship with out a sail? That's me, directionless, no clue which way to turn.

I just have to start taking the St. John's Wort again. It was having a bad effect on my skin but I can't cope without something. I will have to use a lot of caution to stay out of the sun but the sun really does help I believe. I do not wish to take prescription anti-depressants but I also really don't want to descend any further into this blackness.

I am on my way to PT now and then to work. Please, for those of you who pray, say prayers for me today. I do not request this lightly.

End of the Day

The day is winding down and I am on my way to the shower. It was not really a day where I found a lot of enjoyment. I got up early. Actually was awakened at 7:30 by the phone. I can't sleep in no matter what. I dare not turn the phone off because if something happens and people have to reach me they won't be able to. But I'm really tired of getting up early on my days off.

Anyway, I got up and did a lot of running before noon. Picked up meds, cleaning, dropped off old film for developing, dropped off two sets of paperwork for two agencies concerning Mike, came home and cleaned around my office trying to sort out some things. Then, watched a couple of Hulu shows.

Picked Mike up and dropped him at the plasma bank and went to Barnes & Nobel and bought three books. Would have bought more but decided not to at this time. I actually just sat in a chair and browsed a book for a few minutes and then just sat and let the smell of books soak into my skin. I usually love looking at all the different books but after a few minutes I was done. Mind you, I've lost hours in bookstores. This was not typical. And I left unsatisfied.

Then, Mike came back early because he couldn't sell his blood today. He helped me put up the porch light and we went to supper together. I stopped by the photo lab to pick up photos disc and just got done going over them. There were 10 and all but one was Becca's! I'm annoyed. I still have 8 more to develop. These all dated from 2007. I was hoping there were photos of Jerry but mostly they were of Sarah. I've copied them to my computer but I really wanted current photos of him. I am hoping that on my rolls there will be some. But we were taking photos of Sarah all the time and he was usually working or sleeping.

I've not really had a very good day. I got in an argument with Mike around noon and took him home annoyed. I went to the cemetery but I was so upset I had to leave.

This is so terrible, to feel this way. I am so tired of missing him. Isn't that awful. I want accept that he isn't coming back but each time I think I can do it, I need him. I'm tired of the house being empty. I'm tired of not enjoying my yard and home. I'm tired of problems I could always let him handle. He got to where he couldn't do anything and I would get so angry. I didn't know why he never got things done anymore.

He had always been reliable about the things I'd ask him to handle. But then, it got worse and worse and worse until he was doing nothing but sleeping. How could I have missed that? I was tired and hurting all the time and all I did was complain about how he wasn't helping at all.

I don't feel as if I've had a holiday at all. I don't want to go to work tomorrow because I don't want to have to deal with any more problems. I'm really tired of thinking and trying to avoid thinking and trying to figure out things. If the hollow feeling were really a state of being, I'd feel nothing. Everything hurts and I'm tired of it.

I'm going to take a hot shower and get ready for bed. I have physical therapy again tomorrow and this time it is at 7:30 in the morning. I have to do it for this whole month, twice a week. I hope this month will be the end of it. I don't really care anymore whether I go to the gym or not. I'd rather just sit in a chair and do nothing.

I may try and find somewhere to go next weekend so I can get away for a bit. I just need space and I'm not getting it here. But then, I don't know if it matters. I have to come back to an empty house. I usually come back sick.

Well, what started as a fairly average blog has degenerated to a first class whine fest. I'm sorry. It has to go somewhere.