Well, it's Thanksgiving. It's here. It's time. And I'm freaking out. I know it isn't here, actually, I still have to go to sleep. And then it will be here. 13 years. Funny. I was 13 that Thanksgiving. It's been 13 years. Don't you love how things work like that. I'm sitting here in my bed rocking back and forth. I keep wrapping up in my quilt. Then taking it off, then wrapping back up. I keep pulling at my hair. Pulling my fingers through it. I'm a ball of nerves. There's a hole in my chest, and it burns. Part of me can't figure out why this matters so much. He isnt' going to be here. I'm not going to have to deal with him. But... there's something so potent about these memories.

It could have all been over. It could have ended there. But it didn't. Sometimes it feels like it never ended. These memories rotate through my head at random times. It's like.. watching a movie that you can't turn off. I dont' want tomorrow to be Thanksgiving. Don't get me wrong. It isn't that I'm not thankful, I just.. It's just the day. It hurts so much. But I am thankful. I'm thankful for so many things. Too many to list. I'm just trying to not be overcome with anxiety. But the anxiety is taking me over. It's enveloping me. And I'm being hit hard with memories. It's like an arsenal. An arsenal of bad memories threatening to take over my life. I'm fighting it with all I've got.

I asked Eric tonight if he would help me start making new memories tomorrow. He said he would try. That's Eric language for of course honey but I refuse to admit to being mushy or emotional. Ha. I love that man. And I love you guys. And I think I'm done rambling. I think I should sleep soon. Tomorrow will be a long day.

But God is good. And God is faithful. And xanax is fantastic.