Meetings, nonsense, and general busting my ass in the last several weeks... and then I decide today that after getting the monthly report done, I should clean out the extra file drawer in my desk and get it set up to actually hold files. So I start cleaning stuff out and sorting and filing... and I discover amongst the need-to-file items the legal pad from last summer. It's the pad of paper I used to record all of the meds Kathy was on, and when we were supposed to give them to her, and how much she managed to take every day. I took a few minutes to pull myself together at work, and then went to get the kids and get home, have dinner and some apparently normal time with the family before bedtime. And now, kids in bed, I am slamming down the vino and trying very hard to numb myself into not noticing the avalanche of emotional violence that this pad of paper has unleashed. If I drink enough tonight, maybe the nightmares will be quelled temporarily. If not, maybe I will be up early enough to call in sick. I don't know. This brick in my chest is heavy and it hurts. And I don't quite know how to deal with it...
I saw my father-in-law last week. I guilted him into buying winter coats and snow pants for the kids since he bailed on that last year. And the worst part of our conversation was when I said to him " I have to buy Christmas presents for my kids from two dead people this year. I don't ever want to have Christmas or birthdays again, and I know I have to because I have kids. I can't stand what I've lost, but I can't stand thinking that I could inflict that pain on my children. So they are going to get gifts, and I am going to wish I was far away in some isolated cabin on Christmas."
I suck as a parent.
Completely.
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