I have not written anything in three days.  My world has not improved in that time. Cheryl is still gone and my heart remains empty.  The world continues to turn, yet for me time remains frozen on 13 March, I can not disengaged from the events of that night.  

The last time I wrote here was 3 days ago. At that time I had a couple of physically good days.  I have had back issues flare up since this began and a least they were diminishing at that time.  Since then they have come back.  Layered on top of the emotional devastation.  Now I am dealing with doctors and the insurance company, and physical pain.  

My son who had been dealing with Cheryl's loss better than I, has started to break down more.  I try to comfort him, but how do I do it?  I talk to him and hug him and tell him everything will be alright, when I don't know if I believe it.  Cheryl was our source of comfort, and I am a poor substitute..  Another issue, another layer being heaped on top of me.

My sister who had been coming over frequently, has not been over for 4 days.  I understand she has her own life and family.  But I need her.  I feel guilty taking her time.  And this weekend she is going on a short vacation with her family.  Her life goes on, she enjoys each day, and I am jealous.  I never read of jealousy as one of the emotions in the stages of grief, but I have it.  When my son and I go out to eat and see families enjoying themselves, couples holding hands, or elderly couples just savoring the presence of their spouse, I want what they still have.  I want to steal that feeling from them and paste onto the holes I am riddled with.  The jealousy adds another emotional layer of discomfort. 

I had mentioned here that I heard from an old friend and it provided some comfort.  My old friend was a woman, I knew long ago from high school.  And when she contacted me I did feel good.  It always helps to be remembered when you are going through difficult times.  Well it turns out there were some ulterior motives on her part.  She is going through a divorce that has become messy and has asked me to help her financially.  And the financial request was not trivial.  I felt betrayed again, I felt her comfort was at a price, like she was just prostituting her empathy.  

I could really use a shovel to dig myself out from under all the stress that is burying me.  My life has become a bizarre existence.

Mark