I started an entry last week on my birthday - but the page stayed blank - no words would come.  It has been the same everyday. I think about what to write - but, as soon as I sit down at the computer, nothing comes - and the fucking blinking cursor taunts me.  I do what I do best - I sit and I stare.

Time brings no peace - no relief - whoever said that is a liar - or never had a kid die.  I don't believe that it gets better - I believe you learn how to hide the pain better.  I believe you become a better actor.

Someone said to me: "I have never really seen you cry, except at the funeral and at the balloon release."  I started to correct her - but, then, I thought, let her believe that.  I cry EVERY day - in eight months, I have had one day where I did not cry.  I am sure that I will have a second - a third - and so on - but, I don't know when they will come.  You have a kid die and everyone starts talking about how strong you are.  What makes you strong?  I am not strong - I am on my knees - I just do what I have always done: put my botox face on and work on saying an doing nothing that would make anyone uncomfortable.  That's me - never being myself - no one ever knowing who I am - just me going through the motions.

There was another phrase I heard last week: "It's so good to see you out and about."  What? I'm a hermit?  Am I not supposed to be out?  I was immediately taken aback - thinking, am I not supposed to be out?  Should I be grieving more?  Am I not grieving enough?  Do people think I don't care?  AM I DOING THIS RIGHT???

If anyone is reading this, I am sorry - it's not really making sense - it's kind of a stream-of-consciousness thing - I just had to conquer the blank page tonight - I promised myself.  I don't follow through on many things any more, but, I am trying.  Until tonight, I really thought my block came because of my birthday, but, in all honesty, it came because of an assignment that my therapist gave to me.  I sat down to do the assignment and I couldn't.  The assignment:  While looking at a picture of my younger self, write a letter to her.  At first, she said to make it positive - but, at the end of our hour, I told her I couldn't - so, now, the assignment has changed to writing her a letter about how shitty her life will be.  But, I just have not been able to do it.  I told myself I would not write anything - a column, a review, a blog - until I finished the assignment.  Therefore, I have written nothing.  When I look at the picture, I do not see me-I see a little girl who is innocent - who has her whole life in front of her.  How can I possibly write a letter to her, telling her what her life will be like?  That she will never have parents that care about her?  That she will never be able to create the family she will dream of?  That everything will end up in disappointment and that no matter how hard she works, she will end up alone...sad...destroyed.

I guess that is what stopped me - the fact that this girl is me - and I am her - and that is where I started and this is where I end - it just seems too awful to put pen to paper and let it all be real...