Why I Think I need to Write Now

So I'm laying in bed trying to sleep. Lately sleep is hard to come by except somewhere after 4 am and then waking up is horrific too. At night all kinds of things run through my head. I started reading this book about a strained relationship between a father and his teenage daughter and I started to remember how badly I don't want to mess up Abby.

And I'm failing pretty epic-ly at it anyway. Especially now. Abby said the other day that she wants her mom back. Kevin said the same thing in the months after Steve died. It seems when someone very close to me dies, part of my heart dies too. Or just leaves and the hole that remains is like a black hole slowly sucking away the rest of my life and making my whole body too heavy to move.

I get a burst of ability to do something, like cook, or laundry or focus at work. And then I lose that, and can do nothing. And I'm crabby. My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my neck and back hurt and I don't want to move. Every little thing irritates me and I snap.

Poor little baby daughter. She is so sweet, and so kind and tries so hard. I'm wrecking her.

So, maybe I need to tell this story for no one else but her. So that someday, in a small way, she has a perspective that I didn't mean to mess her up.

I love her beyond everything else.