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Last week was the two-year anniversary of Michael's death. In 2 weeks it is the three-year anniversary of the beginning of his sickness.

I spent the weekend prior to the anniversary with my grandkids. I saw Brynn, my most personable and pleasant granddaughter (age 15 months) while her parents were away and then I spent two days with my funny grandsons CJ and Derek (ages 7 and 5). I thought I was "buffered" for the anniversary.

I went back to work on Wednesday and by Thursday morning I was a wreck. I was anxious and upset. I couldn't catch my breath. I felt as if someone was sitting on my chest. On Friday I just sobbed all night. On Saturday I just bumped around the house. Everyone was gone. I was ten different shades of crazy. I didn't know what to do with my self. My head was pounding. My chest was pounding. I tried meditation, relaxation. All the things I normally recommend and what normally works for me. I felt as if I was drowning in my reaction….and I couldn't stop it.
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The 2 year anniversary of Michael’s death is next week and the 3 year anniversary of his illness is next month. Of course the anniversary is weighing on me though I have been trying to will it to not weigh on me. But it is.

I have complained over the past few years that I never dream of Michael. I would love to be with him even in my dreams. I’ve had so many dreams of so many things that seemed SO real and when I wake up it makes me smile. But I never dream of Michael and that really bothers me. Some people say it would make things worse. I don’t know.

Last night I had a dream that I was standing on the edge of a cliff screaming, “Three years is too long to feel this bad!!!” I wasn’t crying in the dream but I woke up crying.

And I feel that way…that it’s been so long. And still feels so bad.