I can’t. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t write. I can’t read, or listen to books.  I can’t listen to music, can’t play or sing. My art is gone, I can’t draw, paint or color. The only time I function is when I’m supporting the kids or friends and family. As soon as the door closes the life leaves with them.  Nothing left here but fear and uncertainty. He was buried one week ago and it was the longest week. I think I’m losing time. What is the point of going on if all you do is take up space, time and resources. I had ways to show Sean my appreciation. I have nothing to offer anyone to make up for the cost in time, effort, and pay for labor. Every time I worry about what will happen I feel guilty for thinking of myself and the fear gets worse. How the hell do I care about taking medication on time when I can’t think or concentrate longer than a few seconds. I was 3 hours late feeding the dogs because I forgot! I’m so OCD about the animals schedule this is not a good sign. All 4 boys are being separated in one case, by a state, and another by hate. Everything he held important has dissolved because he…so, I just can’t.