72 days of living hell, with who knows how many to go

"Emotions are temporary," according to Grace the Grief Counselor.

I beg to differ. I've felt exactly as I do right now for 72 days. I wouldn't have thought that possible; I would have thought that, by now, surely I would have had at least one day - hell, one hour - when I could enjoy the feeling of sun on my skin, or the warmth of the shower, or the smell of the flowers outside, or having Houdini climb all the way up to my face and headbutting me.

But nope. My entire existence for the past 72 days has had exactly three emotions coexisting, with one taking the lead at any given moment. Those three emotions: despair, rage, and terror. That's not going to change, because the reason for those emotions will not change: Doug is dead, and he's never coming back to me.

The only break I get from despair, rage, and terror is when I force myself to feel nothing by watching mindless tv series, or drinking, or zoom calls, or sleeping.

It turns out that I can put together one hell of a schedule. Unfortunately, I'm unable to actually DO anything that's on the plan. I have the best of intentions; every night, I tell myself I'm going to get up, meditate, walk the dog, feed the animals, and then take a 30-minute walk. And every morning, I wake up crying too hard to try and meditate, and then the whole day is fucked, much as my whole life has been, because I no longer have the ability to modify plans on the fly: as soon as something goes off-kilter, I fly off the handle and the day is lost. I'm trying so hard, but I can't get anywhere.

This "take it one day at a time" thing isn't doing the job. Because every "one day" is just another day that I've survived in abject misery. How the fuck is that a win? What kind of sick world is this when people consider it a victory - and are HAPPY - that someone has spent yet another day in unbearable pain that's never going to end? How twisted do you have to be to be glad for that?!? Seriously, think about that for a minute: people are actually HAPPY that I'm continuing to survive day after day even though every minute of every one of those days is pure agony.

For 71 yesterdays, I was full of despair, rage, and terror. Today I am full of despair, rage, and terror. All my tomorrows, I will be full of despair, rage, and terror.

But you go ahead and keep telling yourself that's a good thing.