I was reading an article today that someone sent me and it described the isolation that I feel from other people perfectly in a single sentence.  Other people live on planet Earth while I live on planet I lost my daughter.  They look a lot a like, they even sound a lot a like.  The only difference is that in my world one thing goes through my head all day, every day day.  Gabbi... Gabbi... My Gabbi...

I can't put my full concentration into sweeping the kitchen or doing the dishes or helping with homework.  I can't give anything 100% of my attention ever- because part of me is totally focused on what I lost.  It is like living inside a perfectly clear glass bubble.  I can interact with those around me.  They may not even notice that I can't make it all the way out to them, but I know that I am in a cage and I can never quite reach other people.  Never quite get that human contact that I want so badly.  It is like watching the world happen around me, and being able to interact with it, but not really caring about the outcome.

After yesterday I feel totally and completely hopeless.  You read stories about Chassidic masters whose souls leave their bodies and fly to do things around the world leaving only the faintest strand connecting their souls to their bodies and leaving their students to think they are dead until such time as their souls return from whatever the mission was.  I feel as if my soul has left my body and the tether has snapped.  I am as if dead  with no way of recalling it to it's proper place.

I no longer pray in the traditional sense of the word.  I beg.  I grovel.  I bargain.  But prayer now seems to be beyond me.  Maybe it is because prayer come from the soul and a shattered soul has nothing to offer.  Maybe it is just because I am too bitter and prayer is supposed to be sweet.  I feel as if every night before I go to bed I should be reciting vidui and shema because if I am lucky God will take me in my sleep.

Every day I wake up and remember that I hate myself and I hate my life.  I am furious with my ob for destroying the last of any hope that was holding my shattered soul together.  Angry my husband who does not seem to know where to find soul-glue to help put me back together.  Sad over losing my precious little girl.  I seem to be so full of negative feelings that there is no room to let the healing process actually begin.

As always, please keep praying for a miracle that even I now have trouble believing in.