Finding motivation is the hardest thing right now. I can barely drag myself out of bed in the morning, let alone actually do anything during the day. It’s almost as if I’m waiting for my life to roll to an end (and I don’t mean that in a suicidal way).

What’s the point? I’ve asked myself this a million times. What’s the point of anything, when life is so fragile? So short?

I don’t know the answer to that, but I do know that I have to carry on – for Gary, for Daniel, for me. I just can’t find the motivation or energy to do so right now.

It seems that if I’m doing something with Barry in mind, then I can complete the task. For example, this website. It’s almost like I’m obsessed to get the story down. I do find putting the worse time of my life into words good therapy. Maybe that’s the writer in me.

However, all other things are not important.

Today, four and a half weeks after the “event”, I removed the cards from show and put them away. I found myself upset over this action and felt the need to explain to Barry that in doing this, I wasn’t putting his memory away. Nothing could make that happen. Never.

I find no comfort in talking to his ashes. I still can’t grasp that the contents of that box is all I have left of my son. Everything…is so unfair, so unjust. But I do need to tell Barry certain things, even though I’m not sure that he can hear me. I sit on his bed and cry the words I wish I could say to him in real life. Even though I don’t say anything to anyone, I still long to be given the chance to go back in time and fix things for him. I feel so cheated.

On Monday, I return to work for the second time. I’m scared. I don’t want to go, but know I have to. Luckily, it will only be for half a day as I’ve arranged to work for half days for two weeks. I really don’t know how I’ll go, but I will have to try harder this time. However, while I’m at work, I’ll have the added worry of how Gary is coping. Depression has set in, and I don’t like the thought of him being home on his own for long hours. I hope we will both find a new normality soon. I hope we will be able to laugh without feeling guilty. I hope the hole that we’re in isn’t as deep as I think it is.