Been puking all night, off and on. A lot of it's blood from my nose. Wonderful. As I read more of what we've missed in the last week, I'm making myself sick again. Can't help anyone. Shep was right about that. I'm just a useless, pointless, worthless brat of a woman, who only makes matters worse. This is not self-pity. This is a statement of fact.Tia's not going to like seeing that when she wakes up. Oopsie.
We're staying in the truck tonight, and I can't really complain. At least that means We can get away from the smell of sick of need be. Things... I hate being on pain meds. I keep seeing things on the edge of my eyes. And unlike the lovely descriptions said by some, it's not Him. Or not just. Have to ignore it. Focus.
Blake's not dead. This is not me in denial. This is not me saying "if I say it enough times, maybe I'll believe it." He's not dead. But I can't. I can't let this be like Marie. I can't. I've never claimed to be able to help anyone, only claimed a want to do so. I know it's probably a pointless endeavor.
I refuse to stop caring, though. No matter what is tossed at me or us right now, I refuse.
twisting and turning and falling and burning. have to make things right. my fault.