It’s that time, again. The ten-day period between the anniversary of Rick’s death and his birthday, the day we held his celebration of life. August 13th to August 23rd, 2017: the most painful time of my life.
After seven years, it doesn’t hit as hard. Well, at least that’s what I thought. But I realized that all last week I was strangely “out of it.” No ambition. I didn’t feel much like leaving home. And I didn’t accomplishing anything on my multiple to-do lists while I was here at home.
I tried to figure out what was wrong. I’m not sick. Everything is hunky dory in my life. So why do I feel a bit numb?
Oh, right, this happens every year at this time. It’s like an emotionally caused version of seasonal affective disorder.