it gets difficult, finding ways to deal. or to avoid dealing. it's not easy to explain and I talk to very few people about it, when I talk to anyone at all.
art works, as long as I'm inspired. I'm able to lose myself for a while in creation and beauty. drawing, painting, sewing, crafting ... it all helps. but I can't do that all the time. I go to work and just exist. sometimes I'm happy when I'm with friends, but it's usually only fleeting. at some point I'll want to cry, unless I'm keeping myself occupied with art.
friday, in the dinghy, anu driving us in circles: I lay at the bottom of the boat, staring up at the clouds, and I missed my mom. and I started to cry. I don't think anu noticed, but I felt it for hours afterwards.
It's so hard for me to believe that she's gone.
I had no idea what a loss like this could feel like until it happened to me. I feel it all the way through my ribcage. I sob into my pillow but it doesn't feel like it does anything. I keep holding back. I don't know how to stop holding back anymore.
I hate these quiet, lonely break-downs.
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