Will no one help the Widow’s Son? 

I really hate being my own worst enemy. Being trapped in my own head is hell. There is nothing worse than feeling completely alone and isolated despite living in a house full of people. Of family nonetheless. When you’re so depressed that you have become emotionally detached from your very own children, and you fear that not even they are enough to save you from completely drowning in that sea of despair. I’m on the mend, not as bad as I was Monday, thank God I opened up to someone at the last minute….

The lyrics to Runaway Train sum it up perfectly:
“Call you up in the middle of the night
Like a firefly without a light
You were there like a slow torch burning
I was a key that could use a little turning
So tired that I couldn’t even sleep
So many secrets I couldn’t keep
Promised myself I wouldn’t weep
One more promise I couldn’t keep
It seems no one can help me now
I’m in too deep
There’s no way out
This time I have really led myself astray
Runaway train never going back
Wrong way on a one way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I’m neither here nor there
Can you help me remember how to smile
Make it somehow all seem worthwhile
How on earth did I get so jaded
Life’s mystery seems so faded
I can go where no one else can go
I know what no one else knows
Here I am just drownin’ in the rain
With a ticket for a runaway train
Everything is cut and dry
Day and night, earth and sky
Somehow I just don’t believe it
Runaway train never going back
Wrong way on a one way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I’m neither here nor there
Bought a ticket for a runaway train
Like a madman laughin’ at the rain
Little out of touch, little insane
Just easier than dealing with the pain
Runaway train never comin’ back
Wrong way on a one way track
Seems like I should be getting somewhere
Somehow I’m neither here nor there
Runaway train never comin’ back
Runaway train tearin’ up the track
Runaway train burnin’ in my veins”

I’m “hanging in there” so to speak. But how long before enough is enough and I completely break? Let’s hope that day never comes people. 

Gone but never forgotten… 

June 4 2015, a day I’ll never forget. I had just arrived at work for my 10am shift when I received a phone call from my sister on the work phone…. she never calls my work phone. Immediately I knew  something was wrong, but thought maybe Keith had another stroke or something. Nope. “Grandpa passed away” she said tearfully. “What, what do you mean he passed away??!!??” I remember leaving work, picking Victoria up from my dad, struggling to keep my composure as she asked me to sing her “you are my sunshine” and the worst part. The guilt. How many times I had been up in Seymour,  visiting grandma,  thinking oh I really should go see grandpa too. Eh, it’s getting late, another time. Well I never got that other time. I’m so sorry Grandpa, I miss you tons, and love you, always.

A whole childhood of potions all bottled up

I hate being a woman sometimes. Emotions suck! I hate getting jealous over something so petty that it is embarassing that it bothered me (stupid petty facebook drama) However, the one teeny tiny incident did remind me that apparently i need cutesey lovey dovey bullshit ater all. I know my boyfriend cares, he shows his love in little ways, and I do appreciate it, but lately I receive more affection (non physical) from customers at work. I was doing something on the other side of the counter, and a female regular gave me a hug, and it felt so nice, i didnt realze how badly I needed a hug from an adult. The love I receive from my children is great and all, but sometimes It’s nice to receive attention from adults, to know that I matter to someone who isn’t a toddler. To the few who do show they care, thank you. I dunno I guess I’m fucked up from lack of affecion as a child due to the way I was, kept to myself. I hate the way that I require such validation. I know people care, I know I am loved. I just need a fucking hug, maybe a good cry. a cute text. something for fucks sake. But Then I also HATE that I even feel this way. Why am I so weak???

Stumbling downwards once again

​OK folks bear with me… *warning ⚠ I’m about to open up and reveal shit folks. Run away while you still can. * OK so death is nothing new… Dealt with it A LOT over the past few years. Most recently with my grandmother. It’s been over 4 months already and I STILL can’t move on… Wtf is wrong with me, I’m the family designated Eulogy writer for Christ’s sake… Dealing with death and helping others grieve is my thing. Why am I STILL hung up on this?? I miss the days where I could easily shut my emotions off. I don’t like to feel, especially nights like this. Fuck emotions, Fuck Grief, Fuck Guilt, Fuck cancer, Fuck COPD, and Fuck Death. Bottom line… I REALLY miss my grandmother, I feel a ton of guilt concerning her last few years of life , and I think I’m FINALLY dealing with the emotions I SHOULD have dealt with back when this all happened. Someone please heal the healer she can’t handle this. Emotions are too damn scary…

Breaking down is  easy…. 

I figured it out! That “weird” mood from before. Manic. It reminds me of my SCSU days when I swore I was bipolar. I miss that. Because guess what folks the depression is back. Yup. Hardcore. Like I’m sure the kids will be ok, they have pleanty of love surrounding them. Who knows maybe they won’t know it is suicide. Just drive really fast into a cliff on a deserted road. An “accident”. *sigh* I couldn’t actually do it. After chickening out of hanging myself back in ’08 I made a promise that I would never do so again. Now I have kids, they need me. In fact, even thinking about harming myself and leaving them motherless makes me despise myself even more. Which doesn’t help with the depression, but hey at least I can talk myself out of suicide. Well that and help from a couple of friends. Apparently at least a couple care. Maybe more. That manic week was fun though. Sort of. Being super “in the mood” with no relief in sight was NOT fun. But it was better than soul crushing depression …. until  next time…

I’m not okay (I promise) 

You know what would be brilliant?  If perhaps someone especially someone from my family would inquire about the state of my mental well being.  Yes the Angel of death is used to such loss,  having witnessed many tradgedies over the years…  But guess what.  This is different.  Yes I begged for death to claim her as his bride,  it was much more perferable than the way she was suffering.  However,  letting go of her means that I lost the only blood relative that I had been capable of opening up to. When making copies of her obituary I wasn’t thinking of loosing her,  only losing a paternal relative.  So I was printing copies I thought,  oh grandma needs a copie… Oh wait….  Nevermind.  I also feel like I botched the euology big time.  I had writers block for the longest time,  and then quickly turned out a eulogy that definitely wasn’t my best work,  but it should have been.  I’m so glad she couldn’t hear it,  for she would have been ever so disappointed that hers,  the one that should have been the best was actually the worst.  I can’t bring myself to  cry.  Can’t bring myself to say out loud the words Grandma has died.  This whole month has been a blur. And nobody from my actual family,  my own flesh and blood has asked me how I am doing.  She and I were very close.  Everyone knew it.  Just because I’m not showing emotion doesn’t mean I don’t feel them.  Because guess what,  I’m not OK.  I don’t even recognize my own reflection…. I’m not depressed,  but I don’t feel like me.  I don’t know who I am but it isn’t  me.