Tonight I have no clever or insightful blog posts. Tonight I no positive outlook or self reflection of any value to anyone else. All I have tonight is a empty glass, a restless night, and pervasive thoughts of self doubt. A complex series of events led to a real rotten day, and I am forced to acknowledge the accusations of my own role in the events of today. Specifics are unimportant but it is a setback in my own journey navigating grief and personal loss.
Someone once told me that grief is not a slow march uphill out of depression back to normalcy. He explained grief as a rollercoaster of good days and bad and I couldn't agree more. Two days ago I felt on top of the world, living out my 15 min of fame, finally feeling actualized and on the road to being me again, or at least the new version of me without mouse. Today, the rug yanked out from under me, and I am left struggling how to process what I possibly could have done different, and if fault lies with me. There is no easy answer to that question, and perhaps I will never know. Tonight, all there is, is hurt.
