Therapy was good last night. Its so nice to be validated. I knew everything the grief counselor said but it was so nice to not really have to filter my feelings. And I'm not crazy. (well not totally) It's what I've been saying all along, I OWN my grief. It's mine. No one can tell me to speed up, slow down, to be happy, to be sad except ME and I'm not ready. I'm still pissed off. I'm still so freaking angry that he died. I'm still so pissed off at so many people including my dad. And that it's ok to be angry, mad, sad, pissed off at a dead person. I OWN that too. And man I own it!
I'm angry that I have to figure out how to fix a toilet, how to change my oil. Because dammit, before my parents went on that fateful trip to Phoenix in 2007 where everyone's life was changed forever, he said that he'll save me the trip to Mr.Lube and do my oil changes. Dammit where's my freaking oil change?? And I've been told that I can be pissed off at
On a really AWESOME note. Sal has signed up for the underwear affair with me. I'm so proud of him. Yay! Sal in a thong? hahahahahaha