Jan 18, 2017. 8:21am.
I slept at Diana’s last night (with a friend) because I have an early appointment in the area today. I cannot describe the eerie feeling of waking up in her home — which often felt like our home — without her here.
Plus, things are in places they shouldn’t be, and other things aren’t in places they should be. Order was so important to her, and it causes me anxiety to see the order slipping away. It almost feels like proxy anxiety, in a sense – like I’m worried about her coming back to things not being where she left them, and her having anxiety about it.
It doesn’t seem to matter how many days pass – I still have these gutting moments when I just can’t believe it. And even when I do, I just don’t want to.
Jan 18, 2017. 9:15am.
“You make me think that maybe I won’t die alone…” ~Ingrid Michaelson
She really did make me think that. Now I’m not so sure anymore, which is a really lonely/dark place to be.
Jan 18, 2017. 11:28am.
I went to see a psychiatrist this morning. He prescribed the same thing Diana was taking.
All of this seems so surreal. I cried the whole way back to her apartment after leaving the visit.
I don’t know how much energy I have left in me. It is so difficult for queer and trans people to find meaningful connection. And connection is what fuels us. I feel so lost.
Jan 18, 2017. 9:50pm.
It’s 74 degrees in my apartment, but I’ve been sweating for over an hour. I thought that the battery may have died in the thermostat, but nope. It’s just anxiety/grief.
Jan 18, 2017. 10:08pm.
So many nights in this past month have already been filled with a haunting, deafening silence, and a restlessness that I can’t quite define. Diana and I used to message quite a bit almost every night. And then there were random weeknights when we would see one another just for dinner or drinks or conversation or love (often, all of the above).
Everything feels completely out of whack.
I told someone today that I keep thinking that all of this will get better once I spend a nice, long weekend with Diana, recharging in our love.
Guess this is a pretty pure definition of ‘Magical Thinking.’
Jan 19, 2017. 9:03am.
Kicking myself so hard this morning about things I didn’t say during that final weekend together. She just needed a glimmer of hope; it’s so easy to see what I could/should have said. If I had any clue she was that close to checking out, I would have.
I knew she saw it as a viable option come January or February (if things didn’t improve), but I didn’t expect it in December when she told me she was planning to go to the ER for her belly issue.
I keep trying to pretend she just died of something random and unexpected … Because suicide really complicates shit. Pretending isn’t working. I am really mad at myself, and just hope it will pass in time.
Jan 19, 2017. 9:20am.
he hopelessness and disconnect I feel cannot even be explained in words. Please shine some light on valid reasons for me to stay in this world.