"Last Year" Language in a New Year

I've not written much this month. Part of that is, honestly, that January is a big black bucket of suck. Part of it is that I write a lot from feelings: despair, sadness, confusion, anger, hope, love. I haven't felt much of anything this month. I've felt simply empty.

I was in a group earlier this week where the topic of the new year came up. Someone finally put into words the weird funk that I've had a hard time identifying so far this year.

She said "I can't talk of my dad with the words 'last year' anymore."

Time and space became so bizarre after Ryan died. I remember all of last year referring to how long ago something was said or done with Ryan as "2 months ago" or "maybe 6 months?"When I said 2 months ago, even though it was May, I meant November. It was as if time stopped in January and everything about Time I couldn't help but relate to then. It really was that Life stopped.

It wasn't a conscious thing. Honestly it made me feel crazy.

I couldn't put into words that the New Year brought this new experience.
She was right.
I can't say "last year" any longer.
I can't say "last November when we..."
I can't say "last Summer..."
I have to now say "in 2014" (< I had to think about that one...ugh, grief brain, what year is it?) for even the most immediate recollections of Ryan.

It feels so stale. So impersonal. So detached. So long ago.

This sucks. At least I have words for it now.

Letters to Ryan: Tired

Hey Sweetheart,
There are days that I do realize that I want to keep going, keep trying. I'm just so tired Sweetie. It doesn't matter if I get 2 hours or 5 hours or the rare 8+ hours...I'm always exhausted.

You, Ryan, you were the one I depended on when I had a rough day, when I doubted myself, or when I needed affirmation that I was making the right decision. I'm tired of looking around and seeing everyone has forgotten you; everyone has forgotten me. I'm tired of being abandoned. I'm tired of being honest because I'm crying out for help and it going unanswered.

Perhaps it's because no one knows what to do. I certainly don't.

What I need is for you to hold me when I'm tired, to hear your snores as I try to fall asleep; what I need is to come home to a kind voice and a smile at the end of my day - asking how it went so I can share the details, great or small, boring or not.

I need you here so we can laugh about the techs at the Apple Store today, 75% of which had these epic hipster beards (obviously...). I need your banter, your playfulness and your witty remarks and terribly offensive jokes to brighten my day. I need to hear your laugh. I need my partner in humor - you would have cracked up at the "it's like wiping peanut butter off a shag carpet" bit in The League tonight. You weren't here to watch it with me. You're really gone?

This is not living; this is pointless. This wasting of resources makes no sense. This existing, incapable of feeling happiness or hope, living an existence laced with disappointment and abandonment and despair. Incapable of remembering anything. Reacting to everything. Numb to all else. It makes no sense. Now that you're not here beside me, I've realized I'm the only person on this planet that can really bring happiness back into my life. I'm just too unsure of how that happens and too tired to care if it does.

Miss you. Love you. Always yours,