A Celebration of Loughlin's Life

Last night we invited friends and family to Red Lobster to eat and enjoy the  company. The love was so thick in the room that no sadness could come in. It was a wonderful night.  We had notes for guests to write memories on. I am reading them now. Red Lobster was good food, but the memories are a feast for the soul. 52 of our loved ones showed up to support our family. Lea couldn't come because of volleyball and Giles, the great big brother stayed behind with her.

Happy 25th Birthday Loughlin.

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Video of Loughlin's 15 years with us. I can't even start to describe the heartache. Miss him everyday, hour, minute, second.
Always an empty chair.

Today 25 years ago my water broke

25 years ago today I was walking up the stairs at Harlen's grandpa's house and my water broke. We had been taking care of him, but that was just another disaster in my life. He called and told people I locked him in his room and didn't feed him. That wasn't true, but probably this day I would do just that. I hate people.

So tomorrow is that bright idea I had about a huge party for my dead son. WTF was I thinking? I am completely miserable. Have I mentioned I hate people.

Lea made the varsity volleyball team. Which is beyond awesome, but... I know there is always a but. She has a game tomorrow night against Vale, Nyssa's rival, ( I think team, school rivals are asinine, but I will play nice) She was a JV player, but then she is the star setter and she will miss Loughlin's party. So will Giles miss it just in case there is the slightest of chance that they can make it for the last moments of a celebration of a 10 year dead son. Then there is Maya that is so excited for her sister, but yet has to be so jealous that she never had the chance to play. Because of me, because 10 years ago I hit a parked farm truck and ruined the lives of everyone around me. But Maya is smiling and cheering and so excited for the sister she loves. I sometimes tell her she is a lot of like me. What a complete farce. She is nothing like me. She loves. She forgives. She shows this stalwart personality like she can't be hurt, even when she is so hurt. She is amazing in so many ways. She is tired of her mom. She is pretty close to hating me. I think this is the moment other parents talk about, when they can't wait to get them to become adults. I have never felt this way. the mom daughter relationship is so different. My first relationship with my daughter only lasted 2 weeks. I am clearly not good at this. I  no nothing about what a real girl/ young women wants because I really never lived that life.

She leaves for school on Thursday. Another child leaving the nest. Another step closer to the moment I am no longer needed on this earth. I should be happy I guess. I am . I am proud of her and her drive. There will no longer be any noise in my house during the day again. I am not ready for that. I am not ready to act cheerful as people celebrate the fact Loughlin will never be 25. He won't be because I KILLED him.

Rhiannon is dead
Loughlin is dead
Cyrus doesn't even like to be in the same room as me.
True is my protector, but he need not be. He needs to worry about his life.
Maya pretty much could do without me.
Giles doesn't even know I exist.
Lea, well Lea is just consumed with her perfectness.

Only a decade a go it seemed almost good. WTH happened??????????

Optimistic Labels

I hate words like CPR Cardiopulminary Resuscitation. It doesn't resuscitate. The JAWS OF LIFE doesn't actually bring someone to life.

I am depressed. I can't get off my ass. I can't clean. I really don't family around. I don't want anyone around.

Lay the Blame where it belongs

I have spent 9 years blaming my shakes on the medicine, my sadness on the medicine, my jerks on the medicine, my every downfall on my medicine. Well guess what no medicine and I just want to quit, quit living, quit breathing, quit worrying, quit crying, quit caring, quit hurting, quit feeling guilty, quit everything,

I am once again a coward and cannot quit, but I can stay in my pajamas all day, have headaches that hurt so bad I want to cry, but there are no tears left for such trivial bullshit. They should give morphine drips for mind hurts just like they do body aches. Stick a catheter in, IV morphine, even a bag. I will just sit here and pout for the day, week, month, year, lifetime.

I plan this huge party for Loughlin's birthday like it is going to make this excruciating pain to go away. I am sooooooo fucked up. I have fucked up everyone's life that touches mine.

Beck, “I’m a loser baby, so why don’t you kill me?”

I am back

I am off the pink pill for 10 days now.  I have anxiety, but not anymore than I did on the pill. The fog is almost completely gone. I am looking through washed windows, not my windows in my house but in my soul. My house is a wreck. I keep putting off my much needed paperwork, thank you cards, tax questions. bills, but Loughlin's birthday keeps my mind occupied. What if no one shows but my family who has too, or maybe someone shows up because I put it on his page, which I shouldn't have. I am weaning myself off social media a little at a time. It isn't social and it just pisses me off. No one is that happy. No one is that pathetic. No one is that depressed unless they take a gun and stick it in their mouth. BOOM. It is fake. I will miss the politics. I might miss my extended family, but they are extended for a purpose. Right????  Lea is neck deep in volleyball and she is awesome. Maya leaves for college in 10 days, UGH it will be so hard without her. Giles only thinks about hopping up his already fast car giving his mom heart palpitations. Cyrus is still working on the farm getting his substitute teaching license together. McKayla is working at a health clinic in Ontario. True only thinks about hunting and his girlfriend Katlyn. He didn't show up for Sunday dinner today. You can lead a horse to water.......blah blah blah blah blah  Life is better than it was because I no longer shake like I have Parkinson's. My hair is falling out in droves, but hair is just another thing you have to mess with. Funny am I better?

This is not a cry for help

There has been this lingering thought in my head most of my life. I don't belong. There is this utility knife on the counter in my kitchen. I don't know who left it there or why. I haven't thought that part through. I don't really care. I only care that it is there. Tempting as it seems. There is so many ways to ease this pain I face everyday. Overdose, Driving off the road to the dam, Guns galore, but this knife entices my thoughts of the unseemly demise of my soul. It would be easy, yet messy. Where would be the cleanliness, but when have I ever cared about sticky floors. My life has always been so fucking cluttered, complicated, sloppy, and frankly dire. Yet this sharp razor knife has kept my attention for moments. Who am I kidding? It's all I think about. I would never do this to my babies, my husband, yes, but not my kids. They have suffered insurmountable damage at my hands. The POPO was correct. I killed my son. I probably killed my baby girl too. She was mine.  He was mine. I was in charge of their everything, and I failed. I failed grievously. I quit the medicine that was supposed to be keeping me level, but it wasn't keeping me level. It was keeping me numb, dead inside, dull, even callous, but that pink pill kept me alive, breathing, but what is living, breathing without feeling? It isn't living. You are right. I might as well have been in a coma for 9 years. I could only wish I was in the coma, because then I wouldn't have been filled with the ugly emotions that creeped in and took over my life, the guilt, the anxiety, the anger, the guilt, the guilt, the guilt. So this is 1 week off those horrible, sinister, menacing, horrid, vile pink pills that made me shake uncontrollably, that made jerk, so I couldn't even enjoy my succulent black beverage that is ALWAYS my favorite part of my morning. For 2 months I have refrained from the coffee because I was tired of being burned, but most of all I was tired of the ugliness that surrounded that fucking pink pill. I am not capable of living without that fucking pink pill, yet how would I know? How would I know with my addiction to this lousy pink pill? Sure for a year after Loughlin died I was a fucking wreck. I did horrible things, made terrible choices. I wanted to die. The guilt. Is there a worse emotion? It engulfs your whole being. your every thought, your every word, your every dream, your everything. The guilt of losing Rhiannon made me a better mom, but a lousy wife. The guilt of killing Loughlin, killed me. I died 3,602 days ago, 86,642 hours ago, 5,198,520 minutes ago. I have been part of the walking dead for almost 10 years. Surely not the walking dead that is on TV with the fingers falling off and wanting to devour human flesh, but I am walking and I am dead. 💔

Day 6 of my detoxification

I have made it 6 days while detoxifying from the poison passed off as a helpful drug. I have spent these days suffering from nausea, vomiting, dizziness, foggy mind, shaking, tired and really completely miserable, but i can see a light at the end of the tunnel. I want my personality back. And I was funny this morning. I used to could come up with a song for every situation. I did it again yesterday and not just once, but many times. I am not having racing thoughts. I am mostly tired. I am hoping for a better life after this toxin is out of my body, drinking a cup of coffee without spilling because of the shaking and jerking.   Hopeful once again. 💔😅

Leaving Lithium Cold Turkey

I have never gone off the medicine I was prescribed for the PTSD in 9 years. But Friday night I quit. I stopped cold turkey. I was tired of the shaking and the jerks and my kids wondering what is wrong with me and them worried that I had Parkinson's, plus I am tired of the fog that I have lived in for so long. I am in the thick of the withdrawals right now so I won't write much. I hope it works out well for me. I really need a jump start. I just hope I don't jump the gate and run with no interference. I am strong and I can do this.

My Punishment

MY PUNISHMENT

Last night I had the most vivid dream.

A nightmare full of terror it seemed.

My hands, and my feet were tied to a post.

Above me floated my dead son’s ghost.

The fire burned high and hot all around.

The crackling of the embers was heard, the only sound.

Guilty of killing my oldest son.

It’s the last thing I would have ever done

The whole town cheered at the sight of my demise.

If only they could have seen that day through my eyes.

Their judgement might be different than guilty and death.

The pain is excruciating. I barely catch a breath.

I feel my skin sizzle in the blistering flames.

I am she, whom the whole world blames.

As the heat engulfs me I devour this punishment.

My soul senses a complete replenishment.

After years of agony my spirit finally embraces the release.

Life exiled, head slumped, I am finally at peace.