I've been telling myself, literally saying out loud and thinking to myself for the past 22 months that this isn't real, this hasn't really happened, it's just something I need to get through and then our lives will get back to the real normal. Therapy kind of shatters that illusion. I have to face the stark, harsh, unthinkable reality that yes, it is indeed real. THIS is our life. There is no getting to the other side. This is it. THIS is our normal now.
Last night it it hit home. I went to sleep and I woke up no less than 8 times having the same recurring dream. I was in my psychiatrist's office telling him "no, this isn't real. I can't handle it. She can't be gone. I can't do this." He would just nod his head and say "I'm sorry, it is real" and then I would wake up crying. Needless to say I woke up feeling not too refreshed. Mom was already over when I came out of the bedroom and told her what my nightmares were. She held me while I sobbed and played the role of Dr. H telling me that yes, it is real.
What do I do? I pushed it all aside and told myself again "nope, not gonna do it. I want denial and avoidance again because this shit is too painful. Can't do it. Push it to the side."
So of course I got up, made a cup of coffee and went through the Sunday ads. If indeed this IS real (which I can't deal with the thought of it actually being so) then I have plenty of time to deal with it.
Now is not the time.