Misery loves solitude in 2023

281 days. I don’t know how so much time has passed. I’ve existed in a fog of grief. Nothing more. Nothing less.

The doctor has prescribed sleeping meds for me. It takes hours for me to fall asleep.

That morning flashbacks to me every single night as I crawl into bed.

Every single night, I relive finding you like that .. cold, grey, your eyes half open and staring at me. Every agonizing moment replays in my mind .. calling 911, unable to move you to begin CPR because rigor, the sound the kitchen trash bag - waiting at the front door to be taken out as I’d tidied the kitchen that morning - made when I collapsed onto it as police officers rushed through the door. It never stops. Over and over. I couldn’t save you.

I couldn’t save you.

You saved me and I couldn’t save you.

I know I need to leave here. Financially, obviously, without you I’m not making ends meet. I can’t pay the rent starting next month when Dee turns 18 - despite the fact he’s still in high school and won’t finish until June. There’s no chance I’m asking my son, a full time student, to also get a job to help with expenses. My pension covers the rent exactly, my disability will either get us a few groceries or keep the lights on each month - not both.

But besides all that .. I can’t help but wonder if I’m stuck in this loop because here is you. This is your hometown, your apartment that I moved in to with you. Your bed. Furniture we got together. My routine hasn’t changed,

I still close the bedroom door behind me when I get up … to leave you sleeping.

Coffee, gaming, waiting for you to come home … going to bed alone, you must be working late … tossing & turning, reliving that morning over & over …

Repeat. Forever repeat. 281 days.

I know I need to leave here. But .. how? I can’t afford to keep a roof over our heads here, nevermind save to move elsewhere. Loop loop loop ..