And RIGHT back to the beginning again

In recent weeks, I've been sleeping more (five, and sometimes even six hours). Notice that I didn't say I'm sleeping better; I don't wake up feeling rested, ever. But I've been sleeping more.

Until last night, which was just like the first few weeks after Doug died: couldn't fall asleep until 4:00 AM; awake at 8:00 AM.

Today, I've been cycling through crying, screaming, FURY at what's currently going on here in the states (and there's so much that it would need another entire post to get into it, so let's not), and my mind going in circles about what should I do and what can I do and is there anything I can do get me to where I want to be? and no, I know that nothing will get me to where I'd be happy to go on living, but what about trying this other thing? and no that wouldn't help either and why am I even bothering to try? oh because Doug would want me to but Doug should just come here and TELL me that if that's what he wants and why isn't he visiting me? and did I have it all wrong and I was the only one happily married? and maybe he's glad to be free of me and what if I go back to work on Monday and can't do my job anymore or what if I get really sick and I have no one to take care of me and then how will I survive if I get too sick to work? or what if my job gets eliminated? it's very hard to find jobs in technology when you're over 50 and probably even harder if you're a woman who can barely bring herself to smile and who can't actually DO her job anymore and how can I live another 20 years like this? 

Yeah. THAT'S what goes on in my brain ever since Doug died, and I wrote it exactly the way it happens in my head: one enormous rapid-fire run-on sentence. And it happens constantly, unless I'm distracted by Netflix or a phone/zoom call. It's hard to believe I'm not sleeping, because I'm exhausted all over again just reading that shit.

This discouraging turn of events is particularly ominous given that I'm going back to work on June 1. 

Last week, after I decided that I'm done even trying, I felt a sense of relief. That lasted a few days before I landed right back to the desperate panic that's been my default setting for the past 97 days.

Grace the Grief Counselor says I need to stay in the moment, and I know I committed to trying to do that. But here's the truth: my every "in the moment" is so very dark, and frightening, that I have to try to force myself to envision a better future. But every future I envision ends the same: me remaining alone, lonely, miserable, bitter. And when I live in the past (by drowning myself in memories), I'm right back to that same bleak terror I feel when I'm in the moment.

I wish I could make this stop. I wish Doug were here. I wish I could get my mind to stop whirling. I wish I weren't so scared. I wish I didn't loathe every minute of my existence. I wish I could believe that I'll be happy again someday. I wish I didn't have to sleep alone every night. I wish I didn't have to laugh alone and cry alone.  I wish Doug were here.

I wish.