I'm still here and still riding that fine line between death and living. I suppose I should feel blessed or something to have that one last Thanksgiving and last Christmas with friends and family, but in retrospect it was all pretty bittersweet. You can't really call what I've been doing 'living'. Just to get me out of the house is a major undertaking and I can't drive, so I'm stuck here a lot.
The walls of my prison are closing in. Everyone knows it, yet we always seem to dance around the subject. I try to stay positive for my wife, it really doesn't help her if all I do is mope around all day, but even that is starting to wear thin because all I seem to want to do is sleep. Sometimes I want to sleep The Big Sleep.
But yet, here we are. Uncle Gravy is still a smartass and flirts with his nurses and day to day just keeps on coming. "He's got such a great attitude!", well, fuck you lady, what else am I supposed to do?
Anyway, no resolutions for me.
Apologies for being such a bummer.