Big Yankee's alarm startles and angers me. I am filled with dread before I even see the light of day. My eyelids hurt. My arms and legs feel like like cement weights. Eight hours of sleep thanks to Ambien and yet I am exhausted. Three hours of fitful sleep the night before is likely to blame. Sleeping is so fucking hard. Especially at night when the room is filled with darkness and quiet. My mind races down the rabbit hole of demons and sadness. It's the worst part of my day--trying to fall asleep. The stress creeps in as the day grows darker. The knot in my stomach twists and turns and makes eating dinner impossible. I want nothing more than to climb into my cozy bed, close my eyes and drift off to a peaceful night of rest.
Leftover cheese cubes and some turkey pepperoni count as lunch today. I throw in a few Triscuits for balance. It is tasteless but I know I need to eat in order to keep going. I would probably feel better if I ate better but it requires more energy and brain power than I can muster right now.
It's been fifteen days since Mom died.