If I could just direct your attention to the top of this page where I’m all “Cheaper than Therapy” for a moment…

(Unless you are reading this in a feed reader in which case just know that if you click through to the actual website where this blog lives, there is a pretty banner up at the top and somewhere in the midst of that it says “Cheaper than Therapy”)

Yeah. Technically that is still true. But only because that therapy that I’ve found myself plunged back into is conveniently covered by my health insurance…

I think it’s pretty obvious that the past six months have kind of knocked me on my ass. People who meant the world to me are gone far sooner than I expected them to be. And you know… usually I’m okay with death. I get it, I understand. I grieve and I move on but this time, it’s just different. Every day is harder than the last and while I wouldn’t expect it to be “all better” yet, I guess I thought it would have started to sink in. I’m not in denial; they’re gone and I know that. I just haven’t stopped trying to pick up the phone to call them.

I can’t even bring myself to take their numbers out of my cell phone.

But you know me. Just for shits and giggles I’m planning on piling a bunch of fertility treatments on top of it. Because sometimes The Crazy just needs to be dialed up a notch.

I’m not sure what I’m even trying to say. My head is all over the place and my heart is still shattered. So I’ve started talking to someone about it. And I think that’s a really good plan at this point.