12-29-12     10:31pm

It hurts to breathe…

The air in me is hollow.

My brain laments with grief.

My head hurts. I just got home from Denny’s – a gathering of distraught friends. I took tissues & Play-Doh and ate plastic cheesecake. I am not okay.

I am not okay.

I feel God holding me, thankfully. Mom’s on the phone with Don. I don’t care. I am stoic with small bouts of tears. I need to talk to someone who’s not in it. I need to let go.

I hear “I Need You Now” by Plumb.

Armando said I look very calm. I’m about to implode. All my cells are on high alert. My head hurts. I don’t move much. I’m not hungry. I stare. I can’t tolerate noise or stress. I just want to be.

I was the last person who saw Janet. I shared her last meal. I had that privilege. And I am in pain. And all the questions are coming up. The what did she say and why didn’t you see the signs and did you knows. I didn’t do anything wrong.

I can still feel her hug.

How many times have you heard me cry out?
How many times have You given me strength?

I made arrangements. Let everyone know. Am answering texts night and day. Planning a memorial. Secured a minister. Set up a therapy group. Sat with Chrissy. Breathed.

It hurts to breathe.
It hurts to be.

I took a shower today.
This is how I deal with crisis.
I shut down. It is absorbed into my body, the fabric of my being and it doesn’t exist. I cry alone. I sing. I breathe.

Janet is dead.
It hurts to breathe.

© Michelle Routhieaux 2012