It's been a really long time since I've written. And a lot has happened. My brother died. My divorce is less than 30 days away from being final. My one year anniversary came and passed. I spent a weekend away with a new boy. And I still cry. A lot. And I kind of stopped writing.

After my brother died it's been really hard to get myself back into doing things for myself. I've put a lot of time into filling my schedule up with everything I possibly can - work appointments, after work functions and meetings, bible studies, dinners with friends, craft nights, TV marathons, baseball games, dinner with my family, a second job. I feel a lot of guilt for not spending time with my family, my little brother. And for not missing my other brother more. I don't think about him, hardly ever. That's just wrong. I think about my asshole husband and my messed up wedding and divorce more than I think about my dead brother. And I know that's not right. That's not normal. My therapist would say it's completely normal. I don't know how much I trust her sometimes.

And so, I stopped writing because, well, I didn't know what to write about and I don't think I wanted to see any of these thoughts on (virtual) paper. I'm lost right now. I don't know who I am or where I'm suppose to go. I know that I can't leave because my family needs me, but I don't know that I can stay here much longer. People are already starting to move on, move past the drama and except life and things as they are - messed up. I'm ready to move on too, but my heads doesn't seem to let me.

Where did I go? Where am I?