So many kinds of floods

Yesterday a pipe broke in our basement and we ended up with about 8 inches of water throughout. Water in a basement engulfs everything, every corner, every crevice. If there are dead little creatures lurking behind the water heater or in a bag you haven't opened in 8 years the emerge. It is very revealing.
This flood showed me so many things. It showed me that I haven't been in the basement physically, mentally, but most of all emotionally. A Brachiosaurus was floating in the middle of Giles's room. Who knows where he came from. He once was Loughlin's, then Cyrus's, then True's. Where has he been? Where has all these left over clothes been? 8 years, My God, Where have I been? Where has my life been? Where has Loughlin been? Where are my kids? Where did they go, not physically, but where did my other 5 kids go?

Maya came home from school so upset. The baseball coach is not going to let her take stats this year. I learned she is a girl, and a boy would be better. WTF I guess everything I taught her about having the same rights her whole life was bullshit. I am pissed. Can you tell? She has very few things in her life she loves, baseball is one of them. She can't play it anymore because of her TBI, but at least she could be a part of this team. Did I say I am pissed? Give her a break. She deserves it, for once.

Now the floodgates are open. The tears are falling once again. I am so exhausted. Surgery to the Sale to the Funeral to the Delivering Bulls to a Flooded Basement.

Is this a normal life? I don't remember having chose this life. The sadness is here again. Relief is what I want.

And the Beat goes on

Yesterday the kids and I spent 5 hrs at yet another NeuroPsychologist requested by the attorneys. 5 hrs of testing and evaluation. 7 years after the accident they are going to somehow decipher if my kids were affected mentally or socially by the accident. Well I know that I am affected mentally and socially by 7 years of this bullshit. It feels as if you take an ice pick and shove it into my heart and twist it for good measure every time I am asked to put my kids through this. I really hate the process and I have started to hate everyone involved.
This morning I am having a hard time finding my feet. Walking is a chore. Thinking isn't possible. I am spent. I am weary. I am tired. I am BEAT. I give. I don't want to live this life anymore. I would sell myself to get the money my kids need to get through their ailments, just to have this end. Court starts on December 18th for Maya. 7 days before Christmas, 7 years after I killed my son and ruined my kids' lives. 7 seems to be a reoccurring theme. Giles said "I didn't answer the questions right. I am not telling a complete stranger how angry I get" I just do it around my family. It isn't his business. You know what he is RIGHT!

And for all you do gooders out in the small community I live in. Quit talking, Quit judging, Quit bugging, just QUIT!

Maya's last stand

Last week Maya's Neuropsychologist decided because of the chance of Maya furthering her head injury, she could no longer play sports. She had been hit in the head with the ball and experienced dizziness, nausea, headache and blurred vision.

She is half way through her volleyball season and doing so well. She made the JV team as a Sophomore.

















Her serve was unstoppable. So last night she played her last game. After she was crying, the team was crying, I was crying and even Harlen had tears in his eyes. She can still travel with them but how hard?

My heart is aching. For a mom who wants to protect her kids from everything, I sure am doing a completely abhorrent job.