I dislike using the word anniversary to describe it.  It's been six years since my Mom died.  Six years to the day.  I won't say that broke me - I think I broke before that, but it certainly didn't help.  I suppose I feel lucky in a way.  I had injured myself nearly a year previously and was on painkillers for the aftermath of my Mom's death.  It didn't make things easier, really, but it bought me some time.

That's all we all have, I suppose.  It's something I sometimes have plenty of.

- Jim

May is a tough month for me.  The fifth was the uh... anniversary of my Brother's death in 2006.  The fifteenth will be the anniversary of my Mother's death in 2007.  It's not so long really, but it's an awful long time to be broken. 

Now, I know in the past, I've promised that things would change.  It wasn't a lie exactly so much as a promise I couldn't keep.  Even now, it's not like I'm going to flip a switch and be over it.  The past six (or seven) years have paid some of that cost, but they've also exacted their own toll. 

But the recent past, being all recent and all, has spurred some changes.  Positive ones, I think, though self-diagnosis is problematic at best.  It is what it is.  I promise to try as much as I can.  It's the most I can offer.

- Jim