Husband’s funeral is over. I survived it. Waking up the next day was a good feeling. He might be dead, but I’m ALIVE. My daughter and I, we’re going to try moving onward (somehow).
I gained another pound this week. (I’ve lost 25 pounds in the last year, but I fear I’m gaining it all back.) I’m going to try to slow/stop the backpedaling. Today, I went back to tracking my food. I’m drinking water. I did some reps on the resistance bands. Just one day at a time of self care, so my little daughter can see how it’s done.
I have intense, incredible, immutable sadness, but I can’t just throw away my own life because I feel sad.