The Heavy Weight of "Life Goes On"

I don't think I can even pull one rabbit out of the hat today.

It feels like the days are long and endless and not a lot is happening.

I can tell the summer is winding down, and I always get seasonal depression when the seasons change.

Right now I think I just have regular depression.

It’s not just the season changing, it’s the weight of everything that’s been piling up.

It's been... well, in 2025 I lost an aunt and an uncle within a month of each other.

No warning, just bam, a long-distance phone call: “hate to tell you this, but...”

Then this year I've lost three cats since February.
One wasn't too bad of a shock, one wasn't totally unexpected, but the last was completely unexpected and a total shock.

Yeah, they were “just animals,” but they were just my animals, my pets, my babies.

I think I may have hit the mad at the world stage of grieving.

I'm sitting here trying and trying and trying to find just one bright spot, one thing that happened today, and I can't.

I'm getting off of here.

Tomorrow should be better.

If life has taught me anything, it's that life doesn't stop just because you're grieving.

It goes on.

One day you wake up, notice a rainbow from the stained-glass window, and think, “That's actually pretty.”

I haven't reached that stage yet, but maybe one day.