That is what has brought me back to my old, faithful blog.
It happens every now and again. A few things happen, within a short time, that take me back. I shed my tears, I frown, I wallow.
Grief doesn't go away. You just learn to live with it. Most of the time. But not always.
It's often so unexpected. We went away on the weekend with a big group of friends. It was great fun. And then someone told a joke, with a punchline that knocked the wind right out of me. In that way that post-traumatic stress disorder is triggered, by something small and unrelated and unnoticed by all others. The punchline was words that I have not heard since that terrible day 'nearly' four years ago. It wasn't the joke itself, or the person telling the joke, it was just a trigger that took me back and I fell back into grief.
Since then my week has been littered with incidents and reminders and negative talk in my head, anxiety over completely unrelated things. The more I try to lift myself up the harder it becomes to keep moving myself forward.
Just another glitch in my recovery.