Grief is a funny thing. I've had a good week. Been feeling stable for a long time, about a month, except for grief. But this past week I've been better. I think I would have been hypomanic if I hadn't gotten my Invega shot. Maybe that's why. But today has been tough. I've done pretty good but spent a lot of the day laying around. My son stayed home from preschool today because his tummy was upset this morning and he was in the bathroom a lot so I figured it best to keep him home. I played with him for a little while and then laid on the couch being miserable. And it took me awhile to figure out why I was miserable but I got it. Yesterday at Easter dinner my family was talking about regular dinners and I brought up that I don't cook anymore because my son doesn't eat adult food and I don't see the point of cooking for just one person. And I realized that really depressed me. I miss cooking meals. I miss cooking for my husband. I miss having him here, even when he was complaining about what I made (which wasn't very often). It makes me so sad.

So I sat there for a little while being miserable. Then I got up and gave my son a bath. During the bath I decided to hell with it. Tomorrow I am going to make honey mustard mozzarella chicken, something I made often when my husband was alive because it's very tasty and easy to make. I'm going to make one of my frozen vegetable side dishes and probably no starch since hubby isn't here and I'm not a huge potato or rice eater right now. And I took out sausage to make on Thursday (Wednesday is my standing dinner date with my son). If I can make a goal to cook once a week for now I think I'll be happier. I already feel better.

Grief is so strange. Something as simple as making dinner can send you into a tailspin. I'm glad I figured it out though. And I'm not repressing it.