In a bad place . . . .

Well, here we go again. Just when I thought I was doing better, I'm in the bad place . . . the dark side . . . the side where I can't decide if it's worth going on . . . I don't know why I can't let things go, but I just can't. Some things are unforgiveable and unforgettable, and every time one of "them" comes up, it sends to me to the dark place. I don't give a flying fuck that Jim's "little" brother is getting married. I don't understand why Jim feels it necessary to go meet this poor girl that is marrying a fucking moron. Maybe once she meets the MIL to be from hell, she'll change her mind. I don't know why I get so upset. I don't know a lot of things. But I'm broken, shattered, helpless that he wants to go and be a part of "it." Fuck them. I AM HURTING. STILL. AFTER 5 FUCKING YEARS. Is it fair for me to want him to break all ties with his family? No. But that's what I want. Am I thinking maybe it would be better to break ties with Jim after all this time to avoid the pain? Yes. Am I thinking clearly? No. Fuck. All I know is I'm tired of riding this nightmare roller coaster . . . will someone please let me off? Please? I'm begging you . . . .

Five years . . .

I know that nobody will read this, but that's OK. I need to get it out, but not "out out". Five years ago today I kicked David out of the house. It had been quite a struggle with him for a couple of years. In and out, in and out. Stealing, lying, disrespecting. It was affecting my marriage, my life, my work, my everything. I think the straw that broke the camel's back was the big fat lie about going back into the Army. Making up stories about how you retook your test and scored higher than Jonathan. Well, we checked with the recruiter and you hadn't been there. They wouldn't take you back anyway. Why? Why the lies? Were we so bad that you didn't think we could handle the truth? We tried everything to help you, and would have done more had you let us . . . had you been honest. I packed up your shit and dropped it off at Jonathan's apartment complex. You were babysitting that day. You always talked about the great friends you had, and treated them much better than you treated us. I figured at least one of them would let you stay with them. I'll never forget the look on your face as I threw your bag at you, and I'll never forget my last words to you: "Call me when you get your shit together." Well, that was the last time I saw you . . . on September 13th we got the call from Jonathan wanting to know if we had heard from you. We hadn't. I called Grammy in the middle of the night because I thought maybe you were there and she didn't want to tell me. You weren't. It took two more days to get shithead Mike to tell us where you were last seen. Search and rescue came out . . . the dog picked up your scent, but it had been three days . . . and your scent faded. We were desparate. Panicked. Worried. I took two weeks off from work trolling all the nastiest places in the Valley looking for you. Would get tips from this person or that person, and out I'd head. It tore me up each time I had to go into a store and request permission to place the missing person flyers we had made up. Honestly, I didn't think I'd have any tears left. I scoured the internet for 6 months - checking out arrest logs, coroner reports, looking at pictures of John Does, calling to see if the unidentifiable had the tattoo you had on your back. I'd leave cigarettes outside for you, hoping you would sneak in the house for something to eat and take a smoke. Month after month went by. Nothing. Then I saw in the paper that a hiker had found human remains. No. It wasn't you I kept telling myself. No. No. No. But it was. Why? What happened? I remember that day . . . sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago, and sometimes it feels like yesterday. It was crazy windy . . . unusually windy. I remember Jim coming to my work to tell me you had been identified. I remember having to go to Grammy's and tell her. I remember the pain all too well . . . in fact it's there all the time. I remember wanting to give you the memorial you wanted . . . a party. I remember being surprised and happy at some of the people the came . . . people that you had done wrong to, but still liked you. I haven't spoken with your Dad's parents since the memorial, and doubt I ever will. I'm in counseling, still, after 5 years trying to work through this. Would it be easier if I had answers? A time, date, cause of death? I don't know. In the end I guess it doesn't really matter . . . you're gone. My only child. The child I so desperately wanted and failed. I try to remember the good times, and there were lots of them, but the bad times seem to be engrained in my memories more. The pain is so deep, so tragic, so senseless. I loved you David, and only wanted to the best for you. Drugs got a hold of you and wouldn't let go. I tried to warn you . . . but you didn't listen. I wanted a grandchild, I'll never have one. There are too many of these "anniversaries", and they never seem to get easier. I wish I had the chance to do it all over again - I would have done things differently, but I don't get that chance. No mother that loses a child gets that chance. It's a pain that goes to my core. I imagine today will be filled with reflection, tears, anger, questions . . . all the same emotions I've dealt with for the past 5 years and will have to deal with for the rest of my life. I loved you with all my heart, even though at times my frustration with you probably made you feel like I didn't love you at all. I miss your smile, your laugh, your smell . . . I keep one of your shirts in a ziplock bad so I can smell it every so often . . . I'll never be the same person I was because such a huge part of me is missing now.

Life Throws You Curve Balls . . .

So, this is my first blog on blogspot . . . still trying to figure it all out. Not even sure I'll know how to get "here" without having it in my favorites!

Life throws you curve balls, and sometimes it seems like they come too often, and to some more than others. Or maybe it's just because people don't talk about them? I've had a few, and I'm sure I'll have more. Some are good, some are bad, some I haven't figured out yet.

The good ones are the wonderful friends I've met over the past year and a half. Great friends, with loving hearts, always there to lend a hand, an ear, a shoulder . . . I spent a good part of my life shielding myself from people. I didn't want to get to close. I didn't want to get hurt. It's happened before, as I'm sure it's happened to everyone. I feel super lucky to have so many wonderful people in my life now. Was it fate? Happenstance? I don't know, but whatever it was, I'm thankful.

The bad ones suck. Really, really suck. Losing my son has been the hardest thing I've ever had to go through. As June comes upon us, it gets harder. His birthday was June 8th. He would have been 28! I wonder what he'd be doing. Would he be married? Have a child? Or would he still be struggling with those demons . . . I'll never know. I like to think that he would have turned his life around . . . it makes it a little easier.

Now, my best friend has been diagnosed with ALS. A horrible disease. Everyone is different, so you just don't know what tomorrow will bring. She's the sweetest person on the face of this earth, and SO doesn't deserve this. I'd take it from her if I could . . . in a heart beat, but I know I can't. All I can do is be there for her, help her however I can, be supportive and be there for her husband too. It's just heart wrenching. It's put me in a funk, and I'm not taking care of things like I should. Trying to snap out of it, but it weighs so heavily on my head and my heart, that I have a hard time focusing on the day to day things.

Then there's my mother, who has once again become entirely dependent on me. I should be more sympathetic, I know, but I have a hard time with that. I really think she could do some things on her own, but she chooses not to. She's had a rough life, and has had more than her fair share of loss. But I'm feeling the resentment building up again, which is not healthy for me. I really need to figure out a way to deal with that.

I'm in a strange transition period in my life. Exploring things inside me that I've never quite understood. Some probably think I'm a little nuts . . . some get it. I feel as if there is something out there waiting for me to find it. Spiritually speaking. Not in a religious sense, but on another level. I have a lot to learn; a lot to explore; and just hope that someday I find whatever it is.