It's one in the morning. I can't sleep.
I had an AWESOME weekend, then came home and have been in a bit of a funk since Monday. I have been irritable, emotional, exhausted, frustrated, blah, blah, blah.
"What is going on with me!"
I guess I don't talk about Olivia as much anymore with people. Yeah, she may come up in conversation here and there, but I don't think its right that I would make people to feel bad for me, or that they think she is all I ever think about, because really I don't.
Two years ago this week (on the 13th, to be exact) was when we found out about Olivia's condition. I knew the date was coming up, but nobody else did and why would they? I figured it would come and go and that I might have a moment when I thought about it, but this long drawn out crappy whatever week I am having? Seriously? And maybe it's just compounded by other things in my life, I don't know.
It's strange how our minds remember things subconsciously. There were times last year when I had a really crappy day and then realized the date, and the memory of the year before would pop into my head. Why is that?
Two years...I am amazed at how fast time goes by. Some days it seems like Olivia was just a dream and others feel as if we had just had her. I don't dwell on her, but I see and think of her every single day, even just a for a brief moment, when I dust her picture, or stub my toe on the pig in the hallway, or in Brinley's drawings, or in noises I hear when I know Sarah is asleep and Brinley is out playing in the yard.
It feels good to express myself in writing. I've never been very good vocally. There is so much more on my mind, but best left to those who understand the questions and thoughts that run through my head.
I am sure I will wake up tomorrow and think, "why did I write this?"