I really want to post something substantial, possibly even consequential, but I'm just so tired right now.

My days are jam packed with stuff to do. The irony is that it's all stuff I've chosen. (Or perhaps it's not ironic at all and I'm just looking for a cool word to describe my dilemma.) When I'm running or writing or preparing to have people over to dinner I wonder sometimes if the things I'm doing to deliberately help me process Kyle's death may just be serving to fill up my hours so I can't sit down and actually work through it. It's weird, though, because I feel like I AM working through it.

I think we're all at a weird place in this process. For the first three months there seemed to be an endless supply of adrenaline that legitimized anything I was feeling. I could laugh as hard as I could cry and it was ok because this is what members of a grieving community are supposed to do. But now the pump has slowed to a trickle and I'm left sitting in silence, feeling the same feelings but also feeling that I shouldn't be feeling the same feelings.

In the midst of all my "healing" busy-ness, am I just becoming a zombie who has mastered the art of "how you are supposed to appear?"

Oh, well.