That's the best way to describe the last 13 months. 13 months ago I lay in bed with Tim, lying on his chest as we watched LOST Season 3, and as he ate Bailey's ice cream. He was smiling. He was happy. We were in our flannel pj's on our new fuzzy sheets and we were happy.

Fast forward to tonight. I have been suffering the worst bouts of nausea, have thrown up repeatedly over the last 4 days, have been unable to keep anything down including crackers and toast, I am dehydrated, scared and alone. 13 months. How has this become my life?

I've told my doctor no more anti-depressants. Not because I was worried about the bleeding disorder they made worse, or because I am better ( I am FAR from better, I think I am actually worse). But for 13 months I have been functioning because of these tiny pills and coming off them has been absoute hell. I am already dealing with a body ravaged by a virus that has not only given me the flu, and then a case of hives, as well as this new form of nausea. I am already dealing with what has been the worst month emotionally for me since Tim died. And why should anything be easy for me? Withdrawl from these medcations has been brutal. I am unable to function. I sleep for 15-18 hours a day. I throw up all the time. I sweat and feel hot in -20 degree Celsius weather. I have headaches which feel as if my head is going to expolode. And this is after my doctor has weaned me off them slowly. This is withdrawl done professionally and correctly. I feel like a crack addict who is jonsing for her next hit. I want it all to end. I wish this pain that is ravaging me from the inside out would just end. I wish I was just dead.

But I am not. I am still here. I am trapped in this body and forced to live this life. I have been crying and screaming for him all month long. I wake up in the middle of the night reaching out for him only to realize again for the 400th time he isnt there. I look for him. I ache for him. I need him like no one can imagine. And I am here alone. No one can possibly understand what it feels like to cry, throw up, scream, and be in so much emotional pain every day for 13 months. And this isn't over. My withdrawl will last at least a few more days, maybe weeks. But I will be forever in withdrawl from Tim. I was not weaned off him. He was ripped and taken from me. We were happy and then 12 hours later my world was forever gone. It was replaced with a mind who is confused, a body who is unable to cope, and a soul forever tortured. And this has been the last 13 months.

Some people think because a year has passed I should be over it, over him, and getting on with my life. Amid the spells of throwing up I laugh. What exactly do you think I have been doing the last 13 months. I have been trying to make sense of this new life of mine and am getting through it. I will never get over it. A year.....is not enough to pave over a lifetime of memories we will never have or the years of memories we did. A year, is not enough to repair my heart and soul from being ripped in half. A year is never going to be enough time to get used to a lifetime without Tim. A year is just 12 months of agony to be followed by more pain.

Excuse me...I think I am going to throw up again.