Once again I find myself saying... I haven't written in quite some time... I haven't written a blog really, since August. I've just written about losing the boys, Anselmo and Hercules.

And that still pains me. Every. Goddamned. Day.
I just had a little crying jag over Herc earlier this morning, actually.
It seems I had just begun feeling normal again after losing Sel, that I made the heartbreaking decision for Hercules. I knew it was coming. Some would even say I waited too long. I don't feel that way. I hate myself for it. I don't feel it was "humane" or "fair" or "selfless" or "kind" or any of those other stupid adjectives.  I'll never find peace with my decision to end his life.
And his absence has created a giant void in my life. My other half is gone.
I just keep trudging through the days.

Work, do errands, work, feed the dog, go to band practice, cook, laundry, work, dishes, feed the dog..
Eat, sleep, wake up.
And so on, and so on.

Work is good. I actually feel at home at my little bar on the corner now. I've carved a niche there. Created relationships with my customers and coworkers. I feel comfortable. I enjoy it.
In fact, if I could work more without missing Dawson so much, I would. I think I would work every damn day. But, I only have Dawson here three/four days a week. And I try to be present as much as possible those nights. As it is, I miss him terribly when he;s gone to his dad's. Ten years, and I still haven't grown accustomed to it. Thursday mornings when I drop him at school, knowing that I won;t see him again until Sunday night, sometimes Monday... It's not unusual for me to leave the school a bit teary eyed every Thursday. Like I said, ten years and I'm still not used to it. I guess I never will be.

My daughter is still living here at home, technically. Although we rarely cross paths.
That "relationship" has me quite perplexed. And sad. And angry.
I raised her on my own. We were so close. We had each other throughout the years, and that's all that mattered. She walked the straight and narrow, she was an honor roll student, she was kind and smart and beautiful and loving and dedicated and selfless... and all of those things you would hope for in a child. She is still all of those things, for the most part; but she is different. In fact, I'll be damned if I don't even know her at all anymore. Sometime last year, about this time actually, she turned into someone that I am not familiar with. It's shocking, and sad, and sometimes frightening.
Is this what happens when your children turn into adults? Is this what I will feel as my son grows? I pray it isn't my fate with him as well. Where did I go wrong?

I miss my dad. I don't know how to express that any clearer. Losing a parent too soon, losing a parent at all, I suppose. It's something you can't possibly understand until you suffer through it.
But its more than just that... My dad... no matter how he lived, no matter how much he drank, how disruptive it was for our lives... I loved and idolized him, even while I was angry with him for his addiction. He was like me. The only person, probably, who I could relate to. He knew me.
I miss him so much. Every day.

Finances have me pretty down as well. This house, as wonderful as it is, seems to be sucking the life out of us. And the holidays are coming...

Mother always said that I have a hard time around the holidays. I guess it was/is a noticeable pattern. Seasonal, cyclical, bipolar, call it whatever you'd like. The holidays always put me in a constant flux... jumping back and forth between excessively excited and clinically depressed.

I feel disconnected. From life.

I have to go get ready for work. At least while I'm working I feel a purpose.