Two years.

It's been two years since I lost Momma. Two years since the day I went home on my lunchbreak, walked into my house, and had my life forever altered. I'd be lying if I said that it hasn't been rough.

While there have been happy moments and I've been trying my hardest to get up and go, I often find myself in a state of contemplation. I zone out more often than I care to admit and the fact that certain moments or memories replay in my head is a given. It's like a constant loop in my brain that's forever ongoing.

Frankly, I tend to drive myself a little crazy replaying everything over and over again in my head, wondering what I could have done differently and thinking of all the things in the past that could have changed the outcome.

Sure, I know this is ridiculous, because lord knows you can't change the past, but that fact doesn't stop the wheels from turning and weighing me down. It's involuntary at this point and if I knew how to shut off my brain and stop the wheels in their tracks, I most definitely would.

I try to be happy and content and live my life exactly however I want, but that doesn't stop days like today from encroaching on me and demanding my grief, attention, a piece of my heart and soul.... and mentality.

But, like everyday in my life, I have to figure out how to move forward and pull myself through, because if I simply gave up, I would be a husk of my former self. And if there's one thing that my Momma didn't raise, it was a quitter.