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?
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