Wednesday, December 31, 2008


from a book I'm reading now, The Garden Angel by Mindy Friddle, which pretty much sums up the way I've been feeling lately...

Grief greeted her like a friend. She took it. She began to feel more and more detached from things, like old wallpaper buckled and loose, the seams not meeting. For weeks, she'd had visitors: her sister, her mother, Daniel's mother. Telling her she was healthy and young, telling her she needed to get out, to go shopping, to go on vacation. Everyone's words wormed their way in her fuzzy cloud, eating little holes, biting her. She got good at not listening. The radious of her life was shrinking.

Depression is a bitch.

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