From my journal dated January 1, 2003:
New Year’s Day. A new year. A new day. The days all just run together for me. For me right now, they’re just another day without Jason.
My sister went home yesterday. I hope she had a good time. Joe and Doris always have such a good time together, and I’m very glad. They’ve been friends since I first met Joe. I told Jenna the other day how Joe used to call her Dorie Dew Drop and she’d call him Joey Baby. Seems like such a long time ago.
I know that she’s been really frustrated with me. I don’t know what she expected – probably that we would connect or relate as we once used to. Doris said something along the line that she missed Jason, but she felt like she was losing me, too. I don’t know what more I can do. Honestly, I just don’t have the energy.
I can see where she’s coming from. She really wanted to make sure I was okay. She wanted me to open up and talk to her. But I just can’t right now. I love her so much – but she can be such a poker and prodder. She always has a solution she wants to share. She wants to tinker around and “fix” me, fix things. Some things just can’t be fixed.
I don’t want anyone to poke or prod me or try to fix me. I feel like I need to guard my broken heart. I don’t want to fall apart. I’m afraid I can’t pull it back together again. I’m just weary. I don’t really want to feel very much; it hurts too much. I don’t want to go back and talk about everything we’ve walked through this past year; it takes too much energy. I just want her to accept me where I am, how I am. I can’t live up to someone else’s expectations. All I can do right now is one step at a time, one day at a time.
I’m just dreading life now that Doris is gone, though. It was good to have someone who really cared about us for a change, someone who wanted to be with us and do things with us. We don’t have anyone now. I am not looking forward to this empty year, this empty life. I feel like I don’t have anything to look forward to. What do I look forward to? March 3rd? The trial? An empty summer? Jason’s 21st birthday? It just looks like a very black year to me.
© 2011 Rebecca R. Carney