Quite possibly the most wretched day of the year thus far. I should have spent the day with Aunt Norma, but in my self-absorbed world, it didn't occur to me until the horrible mood of the day spilled over onto my conscience self -- and the floodgates opened. Patrick proved to be my savior, as he has done so often lately. He is becoming a man much too quickly, and his perception of what is going on in the family is all too real.
Should I leave, shouldn't I leave, should Mark leave -- or do we just hang on to ride this one out somehow knowing that good times and an ease from the bone-crunching weight of our burdens lie just around the next bend? I do not claim to know the answer to such a mystifying question. My eternal sadness is harder and harder to contain, much like the rain spilling over the edge of a river. I feel as though I am consumed by the bleakness of it all. I know not where to turn or who to turn to. I fear I lost that ability with the death of my own mother and the near death state of my beloved Aunt Norma.
I feel --- the noose tightening just a bit.
