Pain and Loss

I guess there are no limits on pain and loss. I would like to think that one might reach a limit after which they could be free of additional loss, but it just isn't so. At one time perhaps I believed that love and joy had no limits. Now I'm afraid to believe anything.

I have lost so much. My husband, my marriage, my partner, my career, my financial security, my health, my confidence, my cat, and my sweet sweet beautiful dog. Nothing is left from my life with Brian except memories, and while there are great memories they are shadowed by painful ones. I will always remember the incredible joy of my marriage, but the incredible pain of Brian's death is right there. I will always remember how happy we were to adopt Tater and then Lola, and now they are both gone too. All three died in my arms.

Every part of me hurts. Every part of me wants to give up.

If one more person tells me how strong I am, I might literally crumble. Fuck strength. Fuck courage. Fuck surviving.  I want to lean on someone. I want to acknowledge all my fears. I want someone to love, comfort, and protect me.  I want to be able to find something to look forward to. I want to do more than survive, but I am terrified that any more loss will leave me paralyzed.

My house is empty. The silence is screaming. I am overcome with pain and fear. I am afraid to want; afraid to hope; afraid to be vulnerable.  I'm done. I surrender.