Not in the way I used to mean it. Since Chris moved back to New Hampshire, it feels like he's home again, even though he lives two hours away, so it doesn't feel as deathly quiet around here as it used to (even though it actually is!).
No, what I'm referring to is that I've actually had a chance to catch up on all the fun things that I've let go over the past year, like needlework, and in doing so, I find I'm having too much time to think. (I have also been working on a new book, which limits my Thinking time -- a good thing, as you will see.) And what I find I'm Thinking about, is This Time Last Year.
I came a little too close to the Grim Reaper for comfort, frankly. Now, while the thought of dying doesn't bother me particularly, the thought of leaving behind the people I love just eats at me. Now I find that it's difficult to forget; I hear music that I heard from that time, or think, "This time last year, I didn't even have enough energy to pick up a needle," and the whole horror washes over me again.
I'm assuming this is a form of PTSD? Anyone else have this kind of thing, where, when horrible anniversaries roll around, you relive them? How did you cope?
Obviously, this isn't the first horrible thing that happened to me in life, but it took me 20 years to get over the last truly horrible thing, and I'd rather not take so long this time (for one thing, I may not have 20 years -- comforting thought!). I'd say, "There's always booze," but have been informed that with a background that's half Irish and half Russian, I should just surrender to my Inherent Alcoholism, and that's all I need to stay away from that particular "consolation." And I have never found therapy to be particularly helpful.