I don't know that the thought that I am losing my child is ever not in my head. I have become a master at staying busy, keeping my mind busy in the belief that I can drown out this thought but it's always there. My mind is only in the moment when I am with her, sitting beside her bed. I suppose it helps in a way when other people are here. There is a great deal of conversation and sometimes a lot going on but still when the room may be filled with laughter my mind is not there. I simply go through the motions. There is nothing natural or normal about this. The irony of not being able to fall asleep yet wishing I could fall asleep and never wake up. I have no appetite. I pretend to be happy when all I want to do cry or scream. I feel guilty that sometimes when I see a family and the children are running, playing, dancing - I feel jealous. I look at them and think this is what my child deserved to be able to do. Everyone around me constantly remarks how strong I am and that they don't know how I hold up so well. God, I must have them fooled. If they only knew I crumble a little more every day. I have thoughts I never dreamed I'd ever have. I daydream about going with her when she leaves this earth. There is no pleasure, no happiness. So I will keep the smile on my face to make those around me not worry about me. I don't feel like I am a part of this world anymore. I am aware of what is going on, I can engage in it but inside I am a million miles away. Nothing will ever be the same again.