Keeping on

Nearly a month since the death of my husband, but every day seems like a year. I've tried my old methods of self-soothing, but they aren't working and they're self-destructive anyway. Food isn't doing it - I even bought a roll of chocolate chip cookie dough and ate it. Haven't done that in over a decade, maybe two. Not a good thing for a type-2 diabetic to do. It tasted good, but not as good as I remember, and it didn't help. I've been shopping - almost couldn't make myself stop - and it hasn't helped. All I can think is that he won't be here to see the clothes on me or watch the movies. Or gripe that I didn't need to buy that yarn, I have too much yarn. Plus I've got a LOT of medical bills I now have to pay off. Reading and watching TV do help. They take me away from myself.

The only thing left is writing. If this fails me I don't know what to try next. Therapy? A bereavement support group? I'm really not a people-person, and now without my husband to make me go out and do things, I've discovered that I'm good for one outing a day, and had better get everything done during that outing because when I go home, I will stay there.

No children, no siblings, and my 90-year-old mother is also dying. Dad died in 1983. I have some elderly aunts and uncles left, and a lot of cousins I haven't seen in years, if not decades. Thank God for friends! And the lovely people at church! I've arranged my work schedule, thanks to my wonderful boss, so I can go to the Prayer Shawl Knitting Group at church again. And I'm trying another knitting group on Saturdays. My writing group meets on alternate Fridays. Meeting a friend for an occasional meal out or trip to the movies, zoo, or whatever will also keep me from becoming a complete hermit.

I think I'll start writing my memoirs on this blog. They won't be anything memorable, I'm afraid. I've been a dull person with quite an ordinary life. But it'll give me a topic to work on here, and keep me writing when I'm not working on one of my novels to self-publish. And that gives me a title, from Emily Dickinson. "I'm Nobody."