I hit a wall yesterday. Majorly. It was the first time in a long time that I’ve gotten serious anxiety to the point that I could barely hold it together. In fact, the last time I can remember having this feeling was that rainy night - which I wrote about here - when Mike and I drove the moving truck across the Texas state line on our way to Ohio… the threshold of leaving the home I’d lived all my life in, and the place I shared a life with Drew. It’s been almost a year then, since that day. I suppose I am grateful that it’s been that long since I’ve had this kind of anxiety hit me. There was a time when it was a daily battle. But it’s still just as hard when it hits.

There have been a lot of stressful things going on lately. Moving is always stressful, especially when you’re trying to merge two complete households. When you pile grief into the equation, it’s also bittersweet and full of a huge mix of excitement, and sadness all at once. Having never gotten to live with Drew, each and every time I go over to my place to collect a car load of things to take to Mike’s, (we’ve got a few months, and are doing it gradually) it’s a reminder. Even if I don’t always feel aware of it, those emotions are riding under the surface, in the corners of my mind that are still confused about how I got here. There is a sadness permeating everything lately, and I’ll admit, I’m tired of it.