Today is the one-year anniversary of my grandfather's death. Tomorrow is the anniversary of my dog Sadie's death, and a less-than-happy date for other reasons as well. Over the last 24 hours, all three of my brother P's dogs died of unknown causes. Other dogs in his household (and neighbors) seem to be fine. Just not his three chihuahuas.

A captain in my brother J's police department was killed in Iraq a week or so ago. He was 34, a father of three, and a decent human being. He came to my grandfather's visitation last year. It's the only time I've met him.

J is going through other shit, too. His TB test came back positive, and even though his lung x-rays are negative, he has to be on medication for the next 9 months.

The lawyer handling my mom's estate is less communicative than would be optimal. My brother K takes my "I don't know what the status of the estate is" as evidence that he needs to step in and piss off the lawyer's secretary. I know he didn't mean to, but that's what happened.

I hate this estate bullshit. I hate death. I hate when people I love are hurting. I hate when I inadvertently hurt people I love.

There are days when I wish I could just cease existing. I don't mean that I want to kill myself -- I couldn't do that to people I love. I mean that I wish I could erase my existence, at least for a while. Let there be an alternate timeline where I was never born for a while. At least until I get a fucking break from this constant hurting.

I'm happy, at least, that my therapist does email. And I see her tomorrow. In the meantime, I'm just going to lie here and watch Animaniacs and refuse to answer the phone. I wish I could go outside without having to talk to neighbors. Or anybody. I'm considering ordering a pizza for dinner tonight so I don't have to cook, but that would mean actually having to interact with a person.

Fucking shit.