not even a monday

I've had some sad, shitty days recently. Saturday was the first anniversary of Mom's death, and I've been slowly unraveling for a few weeks leading up to this. I went to San Antonio for the 11th, and I thought I'd never stop crying. I slept almost the whole weekend. And still, I can't deal with it; if I even crack open the lid to that box, I fall apart. If I stop my mind from racing on other stuff for a second, I start to cry. I'm back in that place where if I had my druthers, I would be curled up in the shower, crying my eyes out. Either there or huddled in bed with the covers over my head. Sleeping 20 hours a day is not a viable option. I can't do any of those things and still hold down a job, or be half of a great relationship.

I don't have time to grieve fully, still, and I am having trouble dealing with my most natural defense mechanism; avoidance. What better way to avoid something terrifying than to hide from it and try to sleep through it?

All of this is just to explain to you my state of mind currently. I'm in quite a state, but at least I can still dress myself, right? At about 5pm today, I'm messing with the neck of my sweater, and what do I find? The tag. In front. Never seemed weird to me that the neck was so high in the front. At least the damn thing wasn't inside out too. So I'm having a double-Monday kind of week month.