Why not me?

I just have a simple question. Why not me? Harlen is so loved by so many. He does such an awesome job at being positive. He is a supreme provider for our family. The kids love him. Did I mention that everyone who knows him loves him. Mark Twain said " No one is a failure that has friends"

I am the opposite, and I am sure that people are whispering the question across the sphere. Why not her? She has made so many awful choices and mistakes in life. You're right it should be me. It should have always been me.11 years ago it should have been me. Hell 31 years ago it should have been me.Why can't it be me?

Paralyzed

Today I am paralyzed. I am sure most of you believe that I am not being literal, but I am. It is amazing what the mind can do to the body. I have a headache. It's pretty excruciating. I took my normal regiment of Excedrin and Promethezine, but it is hanging on if not just by its fingertips. My mind wants to do so many things, like clean the house, fix the holes in my walls, make my yard look like someone lives here, but my body is paralyzed. It is like I am glued to this brown recliner in my living room in which I have come to hate. I feel so heavy that moving is almost impossible. You say I am just lazy, but you don't feel what I feel.

Tomorrow we meet with the Stem Cell Transplant Team. I am petrified of what they are going to tell us. You could say I just need faith, but faith in what? I have faith in a God now, but I do not have faith that it will save my husband from the horrible pain he is in store for. I do not have faith that a match will be found. I am scared. I am scared of what they are going to tell us.

Harlen has been suffering from stress related ills since his diagnosis. For the last three days it has been his back. He is suffering from muscle spasms and I am afraid of leaving him alone.  I used to get this pain all of the time and  know it will go away when he quits worrying and relaxes, but that is easier said than done. He is in the hands of people he doesn't know. People who are trained to cure him, but if they don't win it is just a game to them. They don't have a stake in this fight. As long as they get paid they will feel that their job has been completed.

I find comfort in prayer lately, but today I could pray all day and not feel at ease. God find a match for Harlen. Life is short enough.

The enjoyment of a debilitating panic attack

Not really. There is no joy in panic attacks. In fact you think you are dying and maybe you will one day. Of course you will one day, die. but a panic attack feels like you are dying right then.  Your chest hurts. Your neck stiffens. You have shortness of breath and are dizzy. Your lips and fingertips, even your feet are tingling. Wait those are the symptoms of a heart attack. Could I be having a heart attack? I am fat and completely out of shape. Questions like these make you panic more. Should I go to the Dr and get that same pandering pat on the back? Or will that only make you feel worse and kind of like a loser, which will add to the panic because your husband says he doesn't think you're a loser, but your extremities are numb for no fucking reason. YOU are a loser. Are you also crazy? You lost your balance going to pee and hit your head on the bathtub, but you are only dizzy because you are crazy, right? Why are you panicking he may or you may ask? How should I know? It could be the fact that you drove to Portland and back in 2 days for a softball camp that lasted until 6:30 pm, then there was an accident on the freeway and the sirens and lights make you think are we next? You still have a six hour drive. But this is insane? Driving until 2am is also insane, 3 days of complete insanity. A double shot in my arse again, but not for a real ailment like a migraine, but only because you feel like you are dying. You leave the Dr.'s office and you are stoned, and you are tired, but hey you are not in a total panic, but then the drugs wear off and you are once again panicked. How many Valiums can you take and still respond to human contact? If you take too many then you are in a panic you will run out before the end of the month. WTF! Where are the answers to my questions?

One sort of conclusion is don't DRIVE at all, never again.

Blue Lives Matter......... Not really....... Not anymore than anyone else.... Not really at all

I know I should talk about Fair last week. I know I should put up cute pictures of Giles and Lea showing their steers and put on that fake smile I keep in a jar by the door, but I can't. I want to tell you a very different tale. A tale of chivalry and braveness. A tale of stalwartness and courage. This would be my son Giles.

On Friday night August 3rd, 2018, Giles was pulled over by the Nyssa police. They said he was called in by an anonymous source because they thought he was drinking. The problem is Giles does not drink and he had just left us at Fair 15 minutes previous to take his girlfriend home. We had been playing cards in the motor home. It was around 11:30 pm. This is a normal time to leave the Fair. The kids are required to stay all day, and to feed their animals before they went home. They would be back at 6-6:30 am. It is a long week and this was the 5th day. The source of the phone call cannot be released. (Info from the cops). He was put through the regular asinine sobriety tests. (Why didn't he just blow into a breathalyzer?) Anyways........ After he passed everything, the lead cop asked the rest of the 5 cops, yes 5 cops for a 16 yr old boy, guilty of nothing, to turn off their bodycams. (What that only happens on TV, or in major cities against black men!) Well guess what the struggle is real. Officer Armenta then proceeded to berate my son. He told him he was a shitty driver. (Giles has never even had a ticket.) He yelled more and more until he came to the climax of his tantrum, That he was helping. He didn't want another accident to happen since Giles's mom killed her son. Yes I killed Loughlin. I know I say it, but no one else can say that. It was supposed to be an accident, not my fault, but here was a man in blue yelling, screaming at my son, that I killed my son. 

Giles lost it. He told that son of a bitch that he cannot talk about his brother. He did not know his brother. He had no right to speak his name. At this time Giles was crying. He told me he wanted to be strong and not show his emotion, but that fucker broke him. He didn't just break him. He broke me. He took away 9 years of counseling in his little craziness. For three days all I can think about is the accident. In my mind are images of Loughlin dead, his brain matter leaking on the seat, his brothers Giles and True having to climb over him to get out of the suburban. 10 years of not having Loughlin here and this prick thinks he can do this to this family. See I believe in vengeance as does your Lord. 

the Chief of Police has been nice, but nice is not what I need. I want his badge. I want him to suffer as we have. I want him to lose a child and grieve for the rest of his life. I want him to feel years of guilt. I want him to beg on his knees for this not to be true.  

They say this is emotional distress at the hands of the great men in blue. I say 6 officers watched this happen and did nothing until the next morning when a few broke the blue wall, and then a few more. You see Giles was telling the truth and turning off their bodycams is against the law, and to what end? To scare a 16 yr old into being a better driver, wait Giles is a good driver. Power is a funny thing.

The Chief has a quote by Edmund Burke on his Facebook wall. It says"  All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing". But I just visited his page and it is gone, co put. Is that a sign that he, also, is not going to do what is necessary to fight the triumph of evil? Well the tea leaves tell a fascinating story.  I am sure they are getting their ducks in a row, because Hell hath no fury, wait Don't mess with a mother bear, because I will do everything to protect the cubs I still have. I have always bocked at authority, because " "Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men." Lord Acton. 

I am in the process of seeing what can be done to right this wrong. Maybe an attorney, he will have a free one. Even the ACLU is on my list, my arch-enemy, but my family is more important than my ideals. 

Nyssa Police Department Mission Statement:"Honor, Integrity and Service "

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Venting........Puking.........

Do you know me? I’m the woman that killed her son.

It was an accident you say but resolution I feel none.

People spend a life locked away for stealing such a spirit.

You say it’s different this time, but I don’t want to hear it.

My hands shake because of the guilt.

So many hours I have knelt.

An empty soul is all I’ve built.

An offsuit I’ve been dealt.

All the darkness I have felt.

A decade of sorrow left a welt.

I can’t perform the easiest task.

I leave the house in Eleanor’s mask.

I drink the poison from his flask,

But it was never enough to ease this madness.

Never enough to end this sadness.

Look again I am but a shell.

I dwell on earth in a living hell

When will I hear the toll of the bell?

How long could one feel this way?

I visited your marker just yesterday.

The shame made me retch.

As I read the scripture that was etched.

“If you have done it unto the least of these……”

God remove it please.

I killed him, and he is gone forever.

This family will now never be together.

Momma said there would be days like this..............

I could say I woke up in a foul mood, but you would actually have to sleep to wake up in any kind of mood. I am obsessed with checking Cyrus' Facebook account to see if he is awake like me. 2 nights ago we were both up all night, him posting, me waiting to see his posts. Then I spent the day at a volleyball tournament with Lea. The noise and the people in such a small area put my PTSD in full throttle. I am out of valium. I took it way to often with everything that is going on in my life. Now I am stuck in a constant state of panic. The brontosaurus that is resting on my chest refuses to move. I picked the brontosaurus because an elephant just doesn't explain the feeling and when Loughlin was a child the long neck was his favorite dinosaur. I can't get over the words of my supposed loving husband that I am the spawn of the devil and I caused Cyrus' mental illness. It makes me sick. I have the worst problem with guilt anyway I just want to thank him for adding to it. I killed Rhiannon because I did not wake up on time. I killed Loughlin because I can't drive a fucking suburban to school in the morning and now I am responsible for. Cyrus because I am angry at God and I don't follow my husband's religion. He teaches Gospel Doctrine in church. Sunday's lesson was on Abraham and Sara and Sodom and Gomorrah . I told him that God condones Adultery, Rape and Incest. He didn't think I was funny, but really Abraham and Hagar, Lot's daughters got him drunk and raped him. OMG and I am the malevolent one.

I hate that I sit in silence about Cyrus' illness. Why is mental illness frowned upon? If he was suffering from kidney disease everyone would be concerned. They would check in on him. They would feel empathy for him. Instead they treat him like a leper. Do you know what I would give to talk to Cyrus again, just for 5 minutes, 10. I miss him so much. It is like he is here but a shell. Have I already lost him?

Reintroduction & Persecution

Last week Harlen and I delivered bulls. We took them to an incredible guy that Harlen knows very well. I guess I had met him before but i don't remember. He and his wife have been through hell this last year. False accusations ruined is life. But last Monday his son committed suicide in the most horrifying way. He had been fighting mental illness for years and he was done. I haven't slept well since. I am scared for Cyrus. OMG I could not live through losing another child.

Why this happened to our family? Well Harlen told me last night it is because of me. It is because I curse God for taking my kids. It is because I don't believe, that I don't do everything his God requires, so Cyrus getting sick is my FAULT. If only I was a better person. Organized religion is a plague on society.

Look what is down our hill............

Do you see the truck at the end of the lane? Sure it is further than that horrible morning, but it is there, and the corn is being harvested in the field. This is triggering me to the point my head is foggy. No it isn't ok to park it there. You would think you would know that.

Dark Days

Dark Days

It's your fault.
Wounds with salt.
A fucking whore.
Can take no more.
What can I do?
Nothing new.
My sins show through.
His are few,
Really what's a sin?
Just a story of where I've been.
But you see only what I want.
This past will only haunt,
If you knew would it change your mind.
Better if you stay completely blind.

Kendalee 2017

They Have it Worse

They Have it Worse

You think you got it bad there is someone who always has it worse.

They took your pride but they left your purse.

Is that supposed to make me feel better?

I could sit down and detail it in a letter.

You have no idea what I’ve been through.

Your eyes would cry a tear if you knew,

Or maybe you would talk the same way.

Judge me, then invite me to pray.

You think you know what it is like to walk in my shoes,

Do you know what it’s like to feel so blue?

To sit and wonder what your child would have been?

To question every moment, if not then?

Then times that by two and add abuse and a rape.

Are you astonished? Is that a gape?

Some have it worse, but some have it milder.

Some like it nice and some like it wilder.

Some think I’m a bitch, and some think I am kind.

I invite you to come inside my shady mind.

Then you’ll see the darkest, deepest corners,

Where they scream and claw at this greatest mourner.

I see my baby in my dreams.

She is perfect, life is what it seems.

But that dream fades and in comes the fear.

The reapers are all around. Their breath is near.

They take her away and leave me pleading.

She is fresh and I am still bleeding.

Then tease me with a greater life.

Hit me once, now hit me twice.

He was the flawless son.

His potential had just begun...

The harvester couldn’t take this one in the dark.

This time the jaws were as mean as a shark.

He left a scar that no one could hide.

He pilfered what was left inside.

The grim he took the future and left me blind.

Now who has it worst? Who can you find?

You know nothing about them, just as you know nothing about me.

Open your eyes and get off your worn knees.

God never made you judge over anyone.

You say he sent his Only Begotten Son?

That is for your mind not for mine.

Being on your knees weakens the spine.

So, tell me again how Some have it worse.

Because my life feels like it has been cursed.

I am not looking for your pity.

Asking you to get down and gritty.

I am not asking for anything at all.

You’re the reason I built a large wall.

To keep the Pharisees out and let no one else in.

Your words will not penetrate the skin.

Leave me alone and take your own course.

Empathy is one thing no one can force.

Are you sitting on Loughlin's grave?

We finally buried Harlen's mom yesterday. The weather did not permit for the burial earlier. When we arrived at the cemetery I walked towards the grave which was one over from Loughlin's. Harlen's dad was in between. I looked at Loughlin's headstone and the metal pheasant that sat on the edge was on the ground, the tail feathers broke off. I picked it up and fixed it, put it back where it belongs. The chairs were almost touching the headstone. It made me sick. Harlen's siblings went over and sat in the chairs, more sick. Harlen dedicated the grave, even more sick. All I can think is get off my son. Why would they think this is ok?  It isn't . I am angry about it. Get off my son. Even today I am still angry.

I am sure there is so much more to my anger, than the chairs and the broken pheasant. I feel like I have for 25 years, not the most important women in my husbands life. His mom never liked me. She never thought I was good enough for her son, and now as we bury her everyone tramples my son. I hope I am never like her. I hope that I can always remember that my children's happiness is more important than my petty judgement. The anger isn't going away anytime soon.

"Life is a Struggle"

Just a Week away.from the Ugly

Today is the 20th of October. I am busy. It is Homecoming Week. Kids are going every which way imaginable. Yet, I look out my window and the colors are orange and yellow with brown sneaking in. My heart skips a little, my stomach is queasy, my hands shake uncontrollably, my head swims and aches, I am transformed back to that day, that morning. I was so busy. I had to get home. I had to make a cake for a funeral at the church. I was grouchy. I made Loughlin and Cyrus change seats, Harlen says I favored Cyrus. Did I? This is all my fault. I can't even say I am sorry. I am so sorry Loughlin. I loved you so much. I was always so proud of you. You set our family on a path that is still taken today. I am sorry. My heart hurts so much. My doc always asks me where I feel it. I feel it from the tip of my head to my toes. I am weak. The crater you have left in our life can never be filled. I wish I could live my life over. I would cherish every moment with every child, Rhiannon, Loughlin, Cyrus, True. Maya, Giles and Lea, everyone of them. Life is fleeting. What makes an ordinary day an extraordinary moment? I wish I could remember every second I spent with Loughlin, but with every day my mind fails me more.

The Cemetery

I really have memory problems, but I can't remember the last time I have been to Loughlin's grave. I used to visit it often. I felt closer to him there. I believe that is because of the quietness that surrounds you there. It is surreal, well until some car or farm truck drives by and ruins the entire moment. They look at you like you are a freak. If you show your emotions, cry the looks make you feel like you are unstable, that you should have been over this. Almost 8 years and you are still crying for a son you killed, yes, yes, yes, I cry almost daily. I cry at my failures. I cry at what my life has become. I look for something to drowned out my agony. Alcohol, drugs, but I have other kids. I have to be strong, so I will just use my prescribed meds to relieve my hurt and anger and frustration at the process. Why the hell do I have do go through this twice?

Are you a mom? Can you feel my pain? Can you feel the loneliness even in a crowded room? Do you feel this anger? Scream with me. Let the world know how fucked up this is.

Loughlin and Rhiannon, I will never look upon your beautiful faces again. I am so tired..........

The Sun in the Eastern Horizon blinds my eyes but not my mind to my failures and inadequacies.

Yesterday as I drove the kids to school, I descended our hill, the blaring ball of fire was so immense that I could not see in front of me again. ( I say again, at least I think again. I don't really remember why I hit that truck.) It's nice to have something other than me to blame. The sun is an inanimate object. I am sure he can take the heat.

The whole accident came back in full force. The what ifs drowned me in my own self despair. How could I let this happen? How is Loughlin dead? Just writing those words socks me in the stomach taking the air out of my lungs. Almost 8 years and I still haven't conquered the "Acceptance" step of grief. The weight is enormous today. Sunday Loughlin would be 23. My God is there so much difference between 15 and 23? So much time has passed but in my mind, which isn't that stable, it was yesterday, and yet how is Giles a Freshman? Is it understandable that Loughlin will be "Forever 15" and yet everyone else is growing older? I am older, so much older. I feel it everyday. I have friends running marathons, I can't run downstairs to get toilet paper. ( I am sure I can find something else that will work.)

I keep a page for Loughlin on Facebook. I feel like people hate when I am down and only want uplifting posts. WTF These are the shoes I was given to walk this long dirt road we call life. I guarantee if you want to try them on you will be as Anastasia in Cinderella. They will look like a comfortable fit until the truth is revealed. They are my shoes and mine alone. I am not happy that 2 of my kids are in the cold ground. I am angry. I am sad. I am hurt. I feel ripped off. You talk of your grand babies and your weddings and my kids are gone. My future is forever degraded. My life forever decayed. I am a realist. I always have been. The smile on my face is real, or if it is absent it is absent for a reason. I will not pretend. My incredible son is dead. How do you smile through that? I am not always a miserable wretch. I love my other kids. I love to watch their accomplishments. I love to hear them sing. I love to even hear them argue. I love all the things I missed with Rhiannon and Loughlin. So quit looking at me with that pity face, like you could handle this so much better.

Giles in the Lion's Den, wait throw Maya too.

I am struggling with a decision that Giles, and Harlen, and me unwillingly have made. Giles wants to play football, not because he loves the game, but because it is the thing to do if you are cool in high school. I hate my kids playing football for Nyssa High School. There is no way in hell that the benefits out weigh the drawbacks. 1st and foremost the likelihood of a head injury is great. After dealing with 8 years of the negative results of a head injury with Maya and even Cyrus, I do not want there to even be a chance of this happening to Giles. I worry constantly about this.
The 2nd and most convincing reason is that I have lost my collective mind. The coach is an ass. There is no other way to put it. He berates these young boys. I believe he actually enjoys hurting some of these kids lives, not all, if you are an under privileged boy whom he thinks he can change your life and get credit for it. He is all in, but I guess losing your brother in a horrible car wreck and your family going to hell and back doesn't quite pass the test. He was bad to Loughlin, horrible to Cyrus, and the things he said to True were Nasty and could be criminal.
 I had to go to blue & white night yesterday. I sat in the hot sun listening to this man tell everyone how much he cares for the kids. OMG I can't breath.  I can feel the bile erupt in my throat. I am sick, physically sick. I want to run, throw Maya in the wheelchair, grab Giles and get the hell out of there. I want to get him far away from this self-righteous predator. But that isn't enough for this mom. Maya is asking if she can take stats for the football team. She can't play sports anymore so this is her alternative, not one but two kids will be in the grasp of this POS.  Is this how the parents of ancient times felt when they were asked to sacrifice their kids to the Gods? (I know a little over dramatic, and he is far from a God) but just another mountain to climb, another lesson learned, another parenting skill failed. Jail might be worth it.

Weddings

Last night Harlen and I went to a reception of a very good friend of Loughlin's. We have stayed close to the family because our kids are close in age, 4-H and the fair. I love his mom to death. She is one of the most genuine people in the world.

That said I usually do not go to weddings of Lough's friends. It is agony. It is like a knife slicing through your soul and pulling out another piece of your heart, with the extra topping being the guilt you feel for feeling ripped off again when you should feel happy for the new couple. I felt happy for a while then the little branches of jealousy crept in to the soul.

I left the party nauseated and so full of anxiety and guilt that I was trembling. That should have been Loughlin. He should be entering into a joyous union with a beautiful young girl. I should be looking forward to grand babies. Actually if you want to rub salt in my open wound today you could say Rhiannon would be married, kids. This is not the plan I had for life. My children's deaths have sent my life on a road I never wanted to travel, but yet I am there and sometimes it is ugly and unbearable, but the light shines through and I see the joy through my other children. This life, different than I had dreamed, can still be joyous.

   I Lava You  My favorite song!

The worst panic attack in years

I have had an interesting 7 weeks. I have felt sick for a lot of it, weak, lightheaded, nauseated, exhausted. Thy have performed a CVC on my blood 3 times. Nothing really telling but my white count is high. We tried a series of antibiotics but nothing changed in the white count.

My insurance booted Maya & me off for no proof of citizenship in the United States. I know haha but it has taken a while to prove our citizenship, actually we are not fully back on yet, but in the mean time my prescriptions came due. One of my meds is $460 for a refill without insurance. I decided I wasn't going to do it. I would go off cold turkey, just quit. It was horrible. I felt probably like a drug addict coming off heroine. I was shaking so bad I couldn't eat or drink without making a huge mess. It felt like my skin was a useless shell. I wanted to crawl out of it, peel it off. It was a rough 5 days. I made it though. I am back on my old med again. I am glad I went through it. My emotions are back. I have laughed more in the last week than I have in years. I have cried too, but at least I have both. Rhiannon's birthday and the stress of True's graduation and party are putting more weight on my shoulders and now softball has started. I am coaching 19 girls on Lea's team this year. Maya is helping but whew! That is stressful. We are 2-0 to start the season though.

Yesterday Lea hadn't felt good in the morning so I just kept her with me. We did a few errands around town. One of those errands was straightening out the workmen's comp insurance again....... The office is right across the street from the fire department...............
The sirens went off. It was deafening. I was paralyzed. I don't know if I actually took a breath once in the time it took me to get to the door. I wrote 2 checks and told them whatever happens just call me and I headed for the door. The siren seemed to blare for hours, days, decades. I made it to my car. Lea holding my hand the whole way. "It's ok mom',"Everybody is ok, mom" . I wanted to rush to my family. Check everyone. Do I dare drive? OMG when will this noise stop? Fire truck after fire truck rushing by. Is that an ambulance. I am sick. I am physically sick. My head is spinning. 'Just Breathe'. All I am required to do at this moment is breathe. I can do this. I don't have any meds with me. I have to do this. I have to pull it together. Who will get my kids? Who will coach the game? Who? Why does this still haunt me. I am back in the ambulance 7 yrs ago. My son is dead. I am back in my room 28 years ago my baby is dead. Why must their be the sound of the sirens? I am here. Where are my babies? Where is Harlen. What if they are going to them? What if it is them that is hurt, dead?  Breathe, you just have to breathe. My feet are numb. My hands are shaking. My lips are tingling. I have 5 minutes to get it together. 5 minutes to pick up the kids. OMG I am not going to make it. Loughlin is dead. Rhiannon is dead. The sirens, they won't stop. I plug my ears but I can still hear. I can still see them lying there, cold, dead. Breathe. Lea sing to me, just sing me a song, any song. Sing me your new song the one you made up last night. I love it. I love you so much. You are pulling me out. You are alive. Maya & Giles are fine. True & Kevin are with Harlen. Everyone is ok. I am going to make it. I am going to live. The panic is subsiding. The shaking is controllable. I will make it home. I will make it to the game and we will actually win. I conquered it.

Have I told you how much I hate sirens of any kind?

I can see where it happened

From my kitchen window I can see where Loughlin died. So time and time again while I eat or work on the computer or do homework with the kids or just relax with a hot cup of coffee, I see that spot. I feel the guilt building like bile in my stomach. I relive the accident minute by minute, second by second. I picture the graphic scene, my children hurt, maimed, dead. I hear the screams of my children for their dad. I hear my screams telling the world what I have done. This is PTSD. Funny I can't remember what time Maya's Dr.'s appointment is, but I can tell you every little element of that moment when our lives were changed forever. Your mind is a funny organ. I wish i had the power to just move those memories, like in Inside Out, into the memory dump, but it isn't that easy.

Life is cruel even when it's great. Cyrus is doing great at school....A's in his upper division classes. True is doing great too plus football is over forever (yeah) and it is goose hunting season. Maya is always having fun in life and she is so beautiful and talented in everthing she tries. Giles is adapting to school in Nyssa great. He is getting great grades and making new friends while keeping his old ones. Lea is blooming. Her voice is like listening to an angel. She has so many friends you can't keep track, but............... The guilt comes in, the I got ripped, or the nicer way I wish I could watch Rhiannon and Loughlin do some of these things. People will have the nerve to tell me I should be happy for what I have left. Sure that is like saying you lost both your legs but you still have your arms. Be happy. No it isn't like that because your legs weren't part of your heart and your soul and your dreams. All of that is gone.

Do I love my kids and all of their achievements? Of course but you don't have to be an intellect to know I can feel both.

My World

My World

My life is spinning out into space.

I think it shows in the lines on my face.

People are pulling and pushing.

If I fall there’s no cushion

Without the pins in it

No matter if you spin it.

There’s no oxygen in this room.

No place for my potential to bloom.

People are scratching and clawing.

My soul’s guilt it keeps gnawing.

If there’s peace I can’t find it.

My mind you can’t wind it

I want to let go

Where no one will know

Me and my dreams,

Frantic it seems.

I’m sending out my SOS.

How did I get to be such a mess?

I heard God is the answer.

I feel He's a cancer,

That only promises gifts,

If you just stay away from the cliff.

But if he is there he is pushing you closer

He is cheating And using a Dozer.

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!