Yesterday I didn't shower. Didn't even bother getting out of my pajamas. Realizing Friday what day that was a year ago seemed to open the wound. I wasn't expecting that. Wasn't even thinking that would be a trigger. It made me remember how everything was finally coming into reach. Something I've wanted all my life. Something Gary and I had been fighting so hard for.

I saw a picture yesterday from what looked like handful of years ago of one of my exes and his wife on her FB page. She was posting it for an anniversary. That was enough to send me down the black hole. Him and I recently got back in touch and I learned he's had multiple heart attacks due to one artery that continues to plug up. He's gotten second chances. Why the fuck couldn't Gary have gotten even one chance? What a crock!

I hate this existence. What I'm living is no quality of life. Reading a post on another grief site yesterday I thought "how lucky" of those who passed. I've been thinking more about my own death and how I'd want it to go. No, I don't want something drawn out and miserable but I don't know that I'd want sudden either. I think I'd want to know it's coming. I don't know. I think I'd want the opportunity to prepare things here. I recall Gary telling me in passing during a conversation what he'd want. I don't remember why it came up. He sure got his wish.

I am scared of my death in the physical. I'm scared of dying alone. I'm scared to die and have time go by before anyone finds my physical body. I'm scared of what would happen to my animal(s). But then I'm scared to die in a super public, awkward place. I'm sure I'm getting way ahead of myself but I don't feel well a lot and have isolated dramatically from societal "normals", dramatically from "friends". At no fault of people I can't deal with naive. I can't deal with stupid, pointless conversation. That's 95% of people. 90% of TV. I don't understand how to reengage. I'm never going to be the person I was before. I feel forever, traumatically, distortionally scarred. I understand a physical body doesn't last forever - people die. It happens. The world health organization has cardiovascular diseases as the #1 killer since at least 2000. But like I've said before, tell that to my heart when it all happened and was over in mere minutes, without any true warning or notice, and no second chance. And with him went every fucking someday we talked about, was planning for, that was all coming into reach. That's not fucking fair for a moment. I still want to torment and torture a slow, brutal death to life for what it has robbed me.   

I can't say if I would of taken my own life right after Gary's passing. I couldn't get past my cat and what to do with her. She's my child. I don't know if I could do it now - for one my cat is still here so I'm still in that same boat as before - but it wouldn't be because I want to be here. Because I feel any purpose in being here. Any enjoyment. Any meaning. I really don't know what it would be for. 

I still have him, I know that. He is still with me and has assured me he will be until and even at my own death. His signs and my experiences of him have been remarkable. I can't begin to thank him enough. I feel like the doubt is just not there. I'm not scared of dying in the spiritual. But how do I live in the physical when I am dead. To be grateful to be alive, what the fuck for?? I didn't come back from a death bed. I went to one. And now I have a life sentence of it.

I have seen the faintest spark of renew in an old interest but it's not enough. I still don't know what the fuck to do.