I Survived

Well, it looks as if I've survived Quinn's birthday. First I want to say thank you to everyone who sent their love and support my way. It definitely helped.

So, what did I do you ask? A whole lot of nothin, followed by about an hour of more nothin. I had originally planned to visit the cemetery and possibly go out to eat at Quinn's favorite restaurant. Then I woke up to 6 inches of snow. I decided that the snow was a sign (or possibly just a good excuse) and I went back to bed. I stayed in bed until 5pm, I've never done that before. I didn't really sleep. Most of the time I just stared at Quinn's photo on my nightstand. I spent a lot of the time crying and a good portion talking to the air. Several people called or texted but I didn't answer. I wasn't in the mood to act happy or focus on anyone but myself. It actually felt kinda good to ignore the world and be 100% selfish.

Finally I decided I was done wallowing and needed to do something fun. I got up and went to a movie. I saw Jane Eyre. I scarfed down a ton of popcorn and gorged myself on redvines and Cherry Coke. The only down side is that I was alone, I've never been to a movie by myself before. Thankfully the theater was sold out and a group of girls that looked about my age were seated right next to me. To the outsider it looked like I was with them, I didn't have to feel like a freak. I was very grateful to those girls. Isn't it funny how you can feel grateful to complete strangers?

After the movie I had no desire to go home so I went shopping. Sadly, the only store open at 10pm is Walmart. I made due, I bought some items for my camping trip this weekend and some makeup. Quite the combo huh? After I had aimlessly wandered for as long as I could stand it I went to Harmon's. I made an executive decision to buy myself flowers. I had planned to spend money on flowers for the grave anyway, why not get some and take them home to cheer me up.

It did the trick. By the time the flowers were arranged in my vase I felt almost normal again. I started counting down to the end of the day so I could look back and say "I made it. It wasn't pretty, but I made it"

So here I am, two days later. I don't know if that day was a success or an epic failure. To be honest, I don't really care. I know some people might judge me for wallowing in my grief instead of being more proactive. To them I say, that might work for some people but not me. I am glad that I didn't force myself to act a certain way. I acted exactly how I felt for the first time in this whole process. I didn't have any regard for who would disagree or what people would think.

I am very glad it's over. I never have to survive the first birthday again. I am almost done with all the "firsts" and I'm content to be where I am. Life is beginning to get brighter.