As of this exact moment: 7:37 PM on the 9th of November, 2012, I care about absolutely nothing.
I have kept myself drugged since Wednesday so that I could sleep. I took my daughter to work, I went to my second therapy session, but then I slept. In the last 72 hours, I've seen my daughter for approximately 6 minutes.
I don't care. I don't want to care. What has caring done for me these last 2 years? News from Tennessee is that we may be close to signing the sale papers on the house. So? Just another trip up there, just more guilt, just more pain. It will all be over, but it will never end.
One week ago today, my mother died. The first year is hard, because you're forever being reminded of where you had been, or what you had seen, or what you had said or laughed about during that last year. Will the passing of the anniversary make a difference in me? I don't know. I don't remember any big changes the year after my husband died. Or my Daddy.
I've given up even trying to look or act normal, for my children or for the world. I just don't care. I really just don't.