Who I used to be


I’ve said it many times. So much of Lisa died when Michael did. I didn’t realize how much he made me ME. And while I see parts of me that survived, I mourn for many parts of me that didn’t.

I used to be strong.
I used to be confident.
Capable. Secure.
Brave. Adventurous.

I used to be fun.
I used to be respected.
I used to be a leader.
I had friends. Framily.

I used to be secure. Unafraid.
I used to be looked up to.
I used to be something I am not anymore.
I used to belong.

Now, I am a stranger to myself.
I live in insecurity and fear for what lies ahead.
I give myself a pep talk every morning to face the day ahead.
I am a stranger not only to myself but to those around me.
I am more than my first impression.

Now, I am a shell of that person I used to be.
I’m changing and growing and experiencing things that will create the new me.
I hope to soon learn and believe that I am still worthy of a full life.
I hope to soon believe that I am more than what others think of me.

I am what I am. I am authentic always.
I used to be a person that thrived because of it.
I used to be surrounded with safe people who I could share these things with.
Now, this blog is my safe space. How bizarre is that – that I find my safe place to be an internet page typing to a world of strangers.

I hope the person I am now can find those relationships again. It’s not about company. It is about being allowed to be who you truly are in that company.  Fake company isn’t company at all.

I long for a life where I don’t have to give myself pep talks.
A life where I don’t worry if people don’t like or accept me.
The life I had. It’s gone. And I am pissed at myself for missing it. It will never come back.

My new reality has to be embraced. I am alone. I am misunderstood. I am struggling and those who have no sympathy for it will never understand.

Michael – you gave me 14 of the happiest years of my life and so far, one of the worst. I knew losing you would be something I couldn’t recover from – but I had no idea how hard carrying on without you would be.

So here we are back to the pep talks. Another week begins. And I can do this.


~ Lisa




Signs, Signs, Everywhere There’s Signs

blog1I think that almost everyone I know (if we’ve talked about this topic) believes that a person who has died can still send signs to us or that we can hear or see them sometimes. Some call it heaven, some call it an afterlife, some don’t call it anything. But most religions do have some sort of philosophy about the after-life. I know a couple of atheists that believe that there is a soul, a knowledge base, that exists after we die. Or at least, they believe that a person’s spirit seems to still be present even if they are not.

I suppose signs can take any form in which the seeker will see them. Sometimes it may be a dream, or a song, or a specific thing that happens at a specific time. It could be a flower that meant something special. Then there are the more common themes: birds, butterflies, dragonflies.

When I feel or see signs, it’s usually a combination of several of the above and sometimes other things. I thought I saw him one time in Target. Sometimes I think I hear him. When I talk to him, I hear his replies in my head. I dream of him often. “He” messes with my electronics. And the birds. Wow.

In MN, of course it was the cardinals.  Then there was the eagle thing. The day Michael died, an eagle circled over our home for about 10 minutes. Very low, slow circles. That eagle just last summer did a flyover about 3 feet above my head. I could hear his wings flapping. It was the most surreal, slow-motion moment I have ever experienced.

In the DR, his signs take many different forms. A spectacular sunrise or sunset. Today, a hawk circling over. There is some bird out there, I don’t know what, that sounds just like a cardinal. And I still have the dragonfly that hangs around inside and out. I have the things that meant something to us all around the house. His shoes still by the front door.

Am I crazy? I know people who believe I am when I talk about these things. Yes, I KNOW he wasn’t IN Target. But I also know I saw him.

I don’t think I’m crazy.

Are these REALLY signs? When I have a dream about him, is it REALLY him visiting me, or is it me wanting to see him so badly that I conjure him up? These signs. Are they really signs, or is that bird just circling overhead because that’s what he was going to do whether I was there or not? I suppose you could drive yourself crazy trying to find out, but part of the mystery of death is that we will NEVER have any idea. By the time you got to the place where you learned these things, you wouldn’t be on earth. Nobody on earth knows whether he can hear me, see me, send me signs, or communicate with me at all. Nobody on earth knows.

As for me, no. I don’t believe that I have a tiny Michael on my shoulder or in my brain. I don’t think he’s present and aware of my daily goings-on. Good god I hope not. Being dead would totally suck if you were still stuck in the petty minutiae of this life. Maybe THAT is what hell might be? “You’re going to hell. Now you must listen to everyone’s selfish petty drama and every thought and every activity every day forever and ever into infinity.” What would be worse than that?

What I DO believe, is that I can call on him when I need strength. When I REALLY need strength, I DO believe he will come. I think he’s hopping along in his happy ethereal world with every dog he ever loved running alongside, I believe he’s listening to Iz and maybe some Aerosmith, he’s attending kickass concerts, hanging out with his people, and sometimes through the haze he gets the bat signal. And he excuses himself from his festivities and comes to my aid. Shut up. It’s what I think. lol

Now, I don’t abuse the batphone. Not at all. I don’t use it every time I’m sad. Or lonely. No. I want him to enjoy this shit because when I get to where he is, his vacation is over. I’ll be pretty demanding and require some spoiling. I’m just saying. He owes me. BIG time. But seriously, I don’t really “call” on him unless it’s dark. Very dark. However, there are MANY signs throughout every day that are just sweet and soft reminders. Reminders for the Rememberer.

The Darkness still settles in quite frequently. The waves don’t crash in as often and the crashes don’t last quite as long, but they are still just as dark. I’m getting better and pulling myself out of it for the most part, and I’m getting better about really taking some time each day to just do whatever I feel like. There’s a lot of stress around selling my MN house,  my physical condition is just not even worth discussing (NO MEDICAL ADVICE please). I have lots of things to be stressed about right now, but I’m doing a great job of not letting myself go there. I’m controlling what I can, making changes to take care of me, and letting the rest go. I took the weekend off from a work writing project and actually have had just a nice normal weekend loving on my dogs and my foster dog, dipping in the pool, going to the ocean a couple of times, more little projects in the house, and relaxing.

My reality is that I am a person in “recovery”. I am healing as best as I am able. And that takes energy. It’s exhausting. Not only does grief physically hurt, it takes a continual conscious effort not to get sucked into doing too much, fixing everyone’s problems, staying clear of toxicity and anything else that isn’t good for my process. I need to protect and honor who I am. And who I am is a fractured spirit. Not broken. But I need to tend to my wounds. I need to respect who I am and what I need. I’m always learning and this is a lesson that is so important to understand.

Priorities this week will be looking into some medications and seeing if they are available here (NO MEDICAL ADVICE please), upgrading my internet, cancelling my cable (mostly streaming now), crossing my fingers that the MN house sells, writing project for work, day-to-day work, a Tuesday girlfriend day :D, and continuing to shed the weight of things that are burdening me. I’m just shedding them. If they cause me stress, I’m not doing them. I’ve served my time being stressed. I won’t do it anymore. If it’s bugging me, it’s for sale or out of my life. LOL


~ Lisa


The Rememberers


Let’s get deep tonight. Long and Rambling Post Ahead.

First, something is wrong with me. I don’t know what it is. Last week during clinic I started getting REALLY sore on Thursday. Friday I was physically hurting, couldn’t grip my hands because they were so stiff, couldn’t sleep or get rest. And now it’s become all that plus this OVERWHELMING lethargy. I can’t make fists because my fingers won’t bend that much. Like, it hurts to MOVE. I spent most of the day in the air conditioned bedroom writing some stuff for work and watching Netflix. Tonight, I’m waking up. Looks like another weird sleep pattern is beginning.

My house in MN is empty and spotless. A friend of mine and Michael’s cleaned the house and did a beautiful job (thank you Molly) and a couple of other friends helped scramble to get things out and into my storage unit (thank you Pat and Jen) and other friends have been holding down the rescue (thank you Jeni and alllllll foster families ❤ ).

Anyway, last night I was talking with my friend Pat, and she is currently helping with hospice homecare for a friend of hers. She is going through it firsthand and experiencing it. And as we talked, sadly I was the expert. I could gauge exactly where he was in his process, and where his wife was. I was able to give sound advice and a sympathetic heart.

Talking it through with Pat really brought me back to that time. My PTSD kicked into gear big time and I was just reliving so much today. I think back to the period of time when I was hospicing Michael. I had JUST brushed the dust off my shoulders from hospicing my dad, and I was thrown right back into full-time hospice caregiver mode.

Turns out I was pretty good at it. I learned a lot working with my dad (I was in CA hands-on full-time round-the-clock home caregiving for almost 3 weeks in Jan/Feb 2018). I was incredibly into every aspect of care that I could possibly provide. I was reading all the pamphlets and the hospice workbooks and learning all about what he was doing and why he was doing it. I mastered drug protocols, mastered changing sheets while the patient is still in the bed. I know how to lift a 250-pound man off the floor by myself. Then, not to be outdone, Michael came around the corner and taught me how to tube feed, change IV’s, put in catheters, and monitor oxygen intake. He taught me about popsicle worthiness and the powers of a Wonder Woman blanket. That, I think, was the only thing that kept me sane. When it came to medical stuff I just flipped a switch and it was all about data and just gathering information and results and facts and options. All while trying to figure out if this was really happening, advocating for his care, fighting with his insurance company, fighting for a different doctor, fighting fighting fighting, wondering what the fuck I was going to do, and if this was all a mistake, and looking at the house and thinking omg I have to pack all this up ALONE, and feeling guilty if I left his side because we had such LIMITED time left, and grieving him and my life and our home and everything I thought was real. I was wanting to call my dad, oh wait he just died, I was wanting to talk to Michael (duh), and I was completely lost. I couldn’t share any of these fears with him of course, so it was a LOT to deal with.

It was my own dark side of the moon. It was the most horrifying, terrifying, sad, helpless, hopeless, cruel, ugly, soul-crushing time of my life. Those weeks after we knew, but we didn’t know when. They are torture. They are cruel, and painful, and long yet also fleeting. It was a time of having absolutely ZERO control over the rest of my life or his. A time when we were just waiting for the universe to steal what we worked so hard for. To take away what we deserved for reasons we don’t understand. A completely irrational, foggy, disorienting, painful, surreal time. A time when you really wondered what was the point of waking up.

In the course of 7 weeks, we said our “final” goodbyes THREE times. It was a constant fight for his life. And it was TORTURE.

Anyway, the photo above about The Remembers inspired this whole blog post. We always need to remember for every death there is a survivor. The people who have to wake up that first morning after their soulmate has left this life and face the shit that is only just beginning. The people who are in such a fog, most likely Xanax or Prozac induced, and still must talk to hospice and mortuaries and vital records and insurance companies and employers and neighbors and family members. Those people. In the beginning they are mere survivors, but over time they will become REMEMBERERS. We MUST take care of them. Because for ANY of you to think that Michael dying was the worst thing ever, you are wrong. The worst thing ever isn’t him DYING. It’s LIVING without him.

Here I am tonight over a year later, immersed in it again. Not constantly, this was a triggered thing. Remembering every detail of the “during”. I think often about the before. I think QUITE often about the after. But I haven’t processed the DURING part yet. But now I remember. Every conversation. Every exchange. Every look, every nap, every fight, every scare. I had a full blown panic attack today. PTSD is the reason. We can’t make a direct connection from this to that, but I never had panic attacks in my life before he died. And I can definitely connect them to days when the PTSD is bad.

Being with someone who is dying, changes you. It affects each person differently I am sure. My experience is that it’s a very sacred time and a deep honor to be with someone in their last moments. It’s a peaceful and beautiful process and to think, this person CHOSE me to be the last person he sees. How amazing is that? Yes it’s sad and it’s heart breaking of course. A piece of you dies with them and then you lose another BONUS piece because it was so painful to see. But I still feel honored to have been with several people and many more animals as they said goodbye. I think that’s an important role to fill and I truly do feel that it’s a gift to have that time with them.

I’m going to get through this episode. This isn’t a sad or depressed post. This isn’t a feel sorry for me post. It’s just my reality. Some days are better than others, both with the chronic pain AND the grief. When they come together, it takes me down sometimes. I’m actually in a positive and hopeful state of mind, and I’m feeling REALLY content and at peace. I know that sounds weird with all the crap I just described. But in spite of these speed bumps, at my core behind all of that – that’s where I feel at peace. Speed bumps don’t matter. They just make the ride a little bumpy if I don’t slow down.

In happy news, the MN house is going on the market this Friday!! Let’s ALL put our hearts together and send vibes for multiple offers/ bidding wars/ under contract WELL OVER asking by Monday! LOL is that so much to ask?

I’m going to expand on this topic of being a Rememberer in future posts. I think it’s interesting and a completely different take on grief.

“Yes, we are the rememberers…and we will always be.”


~ Lisa

Home is Where the Heisenberg is!

Welcome to a quick photo tour of some of the things I’ve done around the house to bring my zen in. 🥰

It is really incredible to get rid of almost everything you own and realize what you chose to save as important things. In my case, little mementos and quirky things that make me happy. And a lot of Heisenbergs.

So here’s a tiny tour of my special Boothisms that make my house mine.

More to come.


~ Lisa

This solar outdoor light is EXACTLY like an indoor light I had in my hall in MN.

The full Breaking Bad collection. Michael and I spent years getting the right figures and building this up! It was one of our dorky things. Minerals above are my dad’s.
Two parrots on my patio. A local purchase!

At my front door.
A corner of my backyard. Canopy of fairy lights. This spot is BEGGING for a papasan chair, yes?!?
A new used floor lamp. And Heisenberg. ❤ And Rosie. ❤ ❤ 

The Comforts of Home

What a busy week I’ve had! Work, personal, DR, MN, rescue, other rescue, early mornings, and lots of animals.

Let’s start with work. This week, we had 4 days of clinics. Clinics happen when we have visiting veterinarians that want to volunteer. The vet tells us how many animals they can accommodate, and then we set up our Rescue Rover (mobile spay/neuter bus) in different barrios and spay/neuter the community dogs. Over 4 days, 120 animals were spayed/neutered!

Clinic days are long and hot but so rewarding. We start early in the morning for setup and put in about 10 hours before we go home and get ready to do it all again the next day. 10 hours doesn’t sound like much, but unless you’re one of the lucky ones who gets to work on the bus, it’s 10 hours of blazing heat and carrying animals and bending and squatting and sweating. In spite of all that, clinics are my favorite thing to do. I LOVE seeing the impact we can have and I LOVE meeting all the animals.  SO many people come together over the course of a week to make this happen. It’s such a great thing to be a part of.


Home in the DR

During my trip to MN, I packed up MANY boxes to ship to myself. I left them with a friend and asked her to please ship me one box a week. (it’s expensive to receive packages, $4 a pound on my end! so I need to trickle them slowly). I also left one box with my daughter and asked her to ship that right away.

The first box arrived with some of my things which was awesome. ❤ I’m also starting to personalize my yard as I always have, and have put in some solar lights that glow at night. Gradually I will do more in the yard.

One of the things about living in DR. Living day to day is very inexpensive, but setting up to live here is quite pricey. EVERYTHING costs more: furniture, electronics, appliances. I’ve done an AWESOME job scouring FB marketplace and so far I’ve gotten a brand new toaster oven, an almost new stick-vac, two bedside tables, a 50″ TV, and LAMPS. Lamps are hard to find here – everything is overhead lights. I’m a lamp person! Anyway, I’ve gotten all of those items for about $550 so I’m extremely proud of myself. The bedside tables are old-fashioned and need a makeover, but they’re MINE! No more plastic lawn furniture for the bedroom! It’s the little things that count, yes?

Tables! LAMPS!!!

I have started putting pics up, brought down some pods for my Keurig, and in general I’m feeling at home. It’s different, though. This is the FIRST home I have ever lived in that feels like me and nobody else. It’s a happy and a sad thing. I miss him. ❤

I still don’t have a car and that’s a huge bummer. Working on that.

House in MN

UGH. This is a stressful nightmare that will end soon. After postponing putting it on the market so my daughter could move out, postponing again and again because she still wasn’t out, she supposedly is wrapping up and moving out today. I have a friend who has a housecleaning service on the side, and she went and deep cleaned the house yesterday. It looks wonderful.

In just a couple of days, I’m giving my realtor free access and we are selling the house as is. It’s in great shape, but I didn’t finish the trim, doors and paint/patching. I’m really expecting it to sell quickly. Wish me luck.

Personal Stuff

My pain is through the roof. Spinal stuff and RA stuff. Both seem to be kicking into high gear. I cannot get any pain meds because my rheumatologist wants me on chemo drugs instead. Since I’m not doing that, I’m on my own. I would KILL for some vicodin or percocet but it’s not available down here.

I’m feeling very stressed about MN goings-on and I’m starting to accept and understand what my role is here. It’s not at all what I expected so it’s been a learning curve! I’m catching on. I’m still dreaming of an ocean view but I’m just not sure it’s smart to spend money on rent that I don’t need to spend. The house is really coming together nicely with the gates in place. I still can’t really use my pool because I am gawked at when Mark and Debbie have someone at their gate which is quite often, so I’m realizing I don’t really use the pool at all. I am supposed to be getting height added to my wall to prevent this but I’m not sure when.

My Bella is struggling. For those who don’t know, she’s old, she has degenerative heart disease, she is partially blind, she is deaf, has a dislocated shoulder, and she has mammary cancer. She still is funny, playful and has a great disposition and quite honestly I cannot believe she is still with me. But her airways are getting more tight, she’s coughing and hacking a lot, and I’m wondering if this is the beginning of the end. I will enjoy every moment I have with her! She’s a good girl and I will know when it’s time.

That’s all for this week. The week ahead looks to be much quieter since the clinics are over, and I’m looking forward to a few days with no alarm clock to wake me up! Thanks for tuning in. More to come in the next few days. 🙂


~ Lisa


Home is Where the DOGS are

Wow. I’m just getting back home after a tornado trip to MN. So, so, so much.

What started as a 7-day trip became a 10-day trip because it didn’t take me long to figure out that there was NO WAY I was going to get things finished in just 7 days. I didn’t get them finished in 10 either but I made a LOT of progress.

Walking into the house, and staying there, was not a sad thing for me. The WHOLE task at hand was sad, yes. But somewhere along the line when I flipped that switch, it stayed flipped. The ONLY time I got really emotional was this morning when I was leaving for the airport. I backed out of the driveway and realized I would never come home to this building again. I flashed back to the first day that Michael and I saw this house about 7 years ago, and pulled into that same driveway. If we only knew then.

The rescue is also making big changes, one of which is that we have to move out of our office/storage location because we can’t afford the rent any more. It’s going to put a hardship on us, but we are determined to rescue and to take ourselves to a higher level. We used to be an amazing and inspiring rescue. We will get back to that. It’s just taking some time and some shifts. So a part of my visit was tending to the office and the equipment and supplies and sorting and trying to wrack my brain about how we are going to rebuild.

Like I said, I accomplished a LOT. I met with my realtor, signed the paperwork to LIST the house (!),  I sold more things, and that paid for my baggage to come back to the DR plus a housecleaner, a junk furniture hauler, and a lawn maintenance guy. I assigned a Power of Attorney to handle the closing of the house. I ordered and received a new phone, turned off Michael’s cell phone (:’(). I also ended up getting a VERY small storage unit right up the street because I ran out of time. Things that maybe someday I can get down here, but for now I just needed a place to go. I ran about 20 carloads of trash and another 10 of recycling. Took 5 or 6 trips to storage with heavy stuff (OMG those old red metal toolboxes? FILLED WITH TOOLS. OMG WHY!). I cleaned out the garage, wrapped up all my dad’s minerals. Sold more stuff. I mowed my half-acre lawn not once, but THREE times because it was so long I had to start long and gradually take it shorter. I trimmed the hedges, removed a dead tree, and weed-whacked. I moved furniture, packed and repacked a million times. Spent some time at the office a few different days. And tried my best (and kinda failed) at spending time with friends.

I was able to bring back 6 heavy bags of belongings; only half of one was rescue stuff and the rest was personal. Most notably:

  • Michael. He’s here now. And yes, it makes a huge difference that his ashes are with me. It just does.
  • My Bissell Crosswave fancy shmancy floor vac/cleaner thing. I took it apart into many little pieces, packed the pieces up in many suitcases, and brought it 😊. Why? Because if I bring it intact, I have to pay customs and tariffs on it, that’s why!
  • Bella’s FAVORITE bed ❤
  • MANY of my dad’s most beautiful minerals.
  • A GENERATOR! Complete with a SOLAR CHARGER thanks to my completely platonic lesbian caretaker best friend. Oh, hey – completely platonic lesbian caretaker friend? That solar panel damn near earned me a body cavity search AND a missed flight! TSA had NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH ME. NO. IDEA.

There is so much more that I have to unpack.

Just a couple of days ago, I got word that my foster-soon-to-permanent pup Soleil passed away suddenly. It kicked my ass to be so far away from her and to realize she was gone. I had already packed up supplies I got special for her: an adorable pink harness with a bow on it, a stuffed toy that had a heartbeat like momma’s. I had plans drawn up for her PVC wheelchair. I had plans. I loved her. It was sudden. I hate distemper. It’s a cruel, awful virus.

And here came the monsoon. Not just a wave, mind you. A full-blown hurricane-force tsunami. A moment in time where once again I questioned WHY the fuck the universe does this to me. Here I am wrapping up so many memories and closing so many doors. That just wasn’t enough?  I wondered what exactly is the point of all this? I decided that it’s not worth loving anyone. That part passed, and questions have passed too. Asking why never yields the answer. All it does is make you focus on your sucky life. And deciding never to love is just stupid.

Then came a defeated acceptance. A knowledge and an understanding that for whatever reason on whatever level, whatever forces guide this life of ours have decided to keep throwing fireballs at me. It’s kinda like a video game. A cartoon character running around and dodging fireballs. And getting directly hit by them on a regular basis. Getting slightly burned by that one – being exhausted from running away from that one – only to run right into the path of the next one. This is what it feels like to be me. I don’t feel sorry for myself or question it unless it’s when another crisis hits. To question it is insanity.

So here I am, home in the DR. It FEELS like home now. I’m still figuring out how to do it my way. I make conscious efforts to protect my emotional process and my healing. I make mindful choices about what I will and won’t spend my energy on. All I want to do is be someplace beautiful and save animals. And hang out with my pups. ❤

And, as I’ve said before. Whether we want it to or not, Life Goes On.


~ Lisa

Heading “Home”

So I PROMISE I will fill you in on the DR, I will. But tonight, life isn’t about that.

Tomorrow, I am flying “home” to MN. I’m going to get my house ready to sell. And I’m going to see the rescue office for the last time as we wrap up our lease and look to move our things out. The rescue is still rescuing, we just cannot afford our rent any longer. I will be seeing my doctor. My daughter. Working on my cell phones.

I’m dreading it. I’m dreading it to the point that I’m in a panic. I don’t want to go. And I don’t want to come back, either.

I’m tumbling. Just feeling unattached to anything or anyone. I don’t have solid ground under my feet. And I miss him so much. 😥 So much.

I will be walking into the home Michael and I shared for the first time in months. I don’t know if I’m ready to walk in and feel what we were and what is gone forever. I don’t know if I’m ready to walk into the rescue office that we worked on together and feel what that was and what is gone forever. And yet, when I leave there I leave all the people who love me.

One of the reasons I left MN was because I couldn’t handle the puppy dog eyes looking at me like I was pitiful. I couldn’t handle being a short drive from people who I loved and thought loved me, but they disappeared when he died. I couldn’t handle all the memories, the places, the restaurants, even the TV shows and the radio stations. I couldn’t handle running into someone at Home Depot who didn’t know, and having them ask how Michael is. I couldn’t handle people telling me how much they missed him when I was driving myself home from another ER trip because I was suicidal.

Be careful what you wish for. I ended up in a life that is so starkly opposite. Every single person I know here, has met me and only knows me going through the worst time in my life. And while they are aware of it, they don’t understand what it means. They don’t understand what it feels like to move to a foreign country in the fresh rawness of grief and suicidal thoughts, only to try to get a start and be robbed (yes, my house was broken into while I slept and my car was stolen and totaled – almost $10K spent and gone – no insurance was available so it’s just GONE). They don’t know what it’s like to be hostage in a house that isn’t your own because your car is gone, you are a loser who can’t get your own place to live after taking care of yourself for your whole life, and you have no access to cash. ON TOP OF grieving the only person you want to talk to about this. What they know is that I’m emotional. I’m insecure. I’m scared. I’m unsure. I cry a lot. I change my mind.

The only comfort I am taking in this trip I am dreading; seeing some good friends, and I will finally bring Michael home with me. I really think part of my sadness is that I left his ashes behind. I had plans on the first anniversary of his death that I couldn’t fulfill. And I need him here.

Last night I dreamt about him. I saw him in a parking lot. We ran to each other and hugged. I could feel him like it was real. And all I remember was whispering into his ear “please come home.” That’s what I woke up to this morning. I miss him so much. And every disagreement, every bit of tension or misunderstanding that happens, every time I have failed at a task, every time I am hurt by someone, makes me miss him more. And it makes me miss the people who do know me and understand that I need some patience and kindness and understanding and empathy. People who know that yes, I may act off or I may not always be emotionally even or rational but who don’t hold it against me.

Financially my life has fallen apart. I’ve been taken advantage of and used, and I have nothing. Nothing.

It’s been a lot. I miss being loved. And I really don’t know how to do this without him. So tomorrow I wake up again and stumble through it, try not to upset anyone including myself, and do my best to push through.  Day by day.

That’s it for tonight.


~ Lisa