11 months out. My brain is still programmed to expect her. I still wake up sad and the house is so disappointingly empty. She is supposed to be at the table drinking coffee and reading the paper. Then go to the closet and pick a beautiful pressed shirt to wear to work. She always looked fabulous. Every morning is a disappointment. At least I don't wake up crying any more. I just wake up sad.
I feel as if I'm walking in water, they way you do in the ocean or a shallow lake. The water is up to my waist and it takes a lot of effort. I'm walking walking walking. Everyone else is walking on the beach, or running. I'm walking in waist high water. With weights tied to me. At least it's not neck high like it was in the beginning. In the beginning I was drowning. It took effort just to breathe. Now breathing is OK but going through the day is still hard. I have to make an extra effort to make tea, make toast, everything. Everything is being done underwater, with weights.
But if I zoom out and look at the year from a distance, I see progress. I have moments of real joy. When the sadness comes back it's not debilitating, just sad. I hope this progress continues.