Good Grief 168

I didn't intend these to be slightly out of focus but it doesn't really matter.
The week was hard work and much in the same vein as my last blip.
Interest and care has evaporated. When I look at blips and the engagement that others have with the world I feel very out of it. Unable to look and see creatively. A blank eye. Unable to think or have anything to say. Unable to even reflect or think. Sleep is fleeting. I'd like to be out of it for longer.
It was a productive day of lots of jobs. 
I went to the opticians but found myself feeling increasingly upset. He was very silent and all the instructions and decisions about which is clearer, number one or number two, the green or the red, etc. The close attention on me with his relative silence, apart from instructions, and the feeling of detachment just accentuated my sense of disconnection and not really caring much and wondering why I had gone in the first place.
I then went to the fishmonger to get some smoked haddock. The plan is to prepare and freeze food for the family gathering to scatter dad's ashes. I decided to cook dad's favourite dish that he loved because it was a favourite of Winston Churchill's. The problem is that because it is 'anniversary alley' it has meant that although I have avoided the weekend falling on the anniversary of my husband's death it does unfortunately coincide with when we were both staying at my parents and he fell against the bath rim and cracked his ribs and ruptured his spleen. It was the beginning of the end.
It was the only weekend everyone could make and the tides are right.
Just going to have to bite the bullet. Done it lots of times.
Just running out of steam.

The trouble too, with family, is I just feel very out of it. Alien and
alone. It's no-one's fault. They are all good people. It's my fault.
(I know that's not helpful but is how it feels).