Hello, January. Now go away.

I seem to approach each January with a wary eye.
I know February is coming. I know March is coming. But first, there is January.

January is the thinking month before the grieving months. I spend all of January thinking about how I will accomplish the next two. I strategize my grief. How will I get through the grief and the hard days without missing Clark and Emily's many lessons and birthday parties and commitments? Where can I go to cry at work where no one can find me? How can I secretly take the anti-anxiety meds my husband hates but I need sometimes to get through this? Should I take the death days off? Power through them at work and stay busy? Work from home those days?

I have chosen not to tell my co-workers at this new job about the boys, the grief, the genetics or the PTSD. That's a double edged sword - I don't have to talk about it, but then I can't explain it when I need to, either.

I have run through February and March in my head about 100 times so far, and I can't wrap my head around what I ought to do, how I should handle any part of it, other than the wreath at the grave and the self-preservation that comes with staying the hell away from my in-laws.

How, I wonder, have I been through this four other times and not learn anything from it? I shake my head at myself. January, you are full of anticipation and anxiety. Now go away, but not so far as to take me to February and March.