Grief is this ridiculous thing.

It feels so inappropriate right now.  The past months have been terrible, and stifling, and all the other things that staunch anything creative.

My daughter? Is excellent. Magnificent. She is magical. All that is good, and light. Wild abandon she has in spades.

I am not wired like my husband, if one thing is good, then everything is good.  Or good enough.

I try but fail utterly at that perspective.  Perhaps its my broken mind, I don’t know.

Our life has a lot of not good going on, and I am struggling to put things in boxes.

I have so many lovely things I’ve wanted to share.  Tzigana turning six months.  She will be eight months next week.  Hysterical videos of  her.  Things I want to talk about that mean something.  But this grief.

Is such a cock block.

So how are you all?  What is blocking you? Or have you pushed through?  If so, please share some wisdom and perspective with me.

Us narcissists love our pity parties, but I am about ready to hobble home.