When It Rains...

It pours.

My grandmother died last night. He has given me a week for mourning and has decided the stressor of returning to online chat will wait, but in the meantime I am to concern myself only with my grief.

It's hard. I want to desperately please him and he has told me he believes to have found a Home that will make the return less ... and here I fail to find a word. Less what?

Still, I find it very hard to concentrate on my grief. I am glad for the reprise. He said he's busting me back down to white silks and we're going to be retraining, both offline and on. I feel ...good about it actually. A great deal of fear simply.... eases away thinking about it. I can't say why.

He said he has granted me freedom of expression this entire week, to cry, to scream, to throw fits, anything and everything will be accepted.

Even now, I can't really make my thoughts center on accepting her death. I think denial has set in. There was a flash of anger last night, but ever since then ...nothing. Maybe there is something wrong with me. I begged to be allowed back online and concentrate on that instead, but he refused me, saying I would not be allowed to hide my grief in words. He's right. I'd just latch on to relearning everything he wants me to know and ... let it all slide.

I'm trying...