I Heart Adrenaline

I Heart Adrenaline

Lucky me; I don't need prescription uppers. My body creates them for me, for free.

Busy busy busy. Not thinking not thinking not thinking. Much.

Though I do wonder if people think I'm an ass for being so chipper and manic, or if they just see me as crazy grief-avoiding lady to be patted on the head and not taken seriously because I'm temporarily insane.

Last night was my penultimate Iron Gate night class and I nattered on all night with an opinion on absolutely everything that came up. Whereas another parent who lost her dad a few days after I did is in such a state that she sent her husband to the class in her stead, and had him ask for our understanding. Is what she's doing what I'm supposed to be doing?

I did mind-blowing grief for a day, but decided that it sucked not only for me but for everyone in my family. So I found the new house and now am so busy that my partitioned mind can think about my dad without me having to take to my bed for the day.

Did I mention that we swiped my dad's wedding ring before the coroner whisked him away, and that my mom said I could keep it? I see my father every time I look at my writing hand, and so am not exactly suppressing all dad-related musings. But I also cannot allow myself to tumble headlong into a black pit of grief. I have too many people depending on me. And I am feeling very fortunate that I can make the choice to stay aloft, knowing that not everyone is able to do so.

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