Today I just need an ear to listen.....I am not looking for you to fix me. Happy birthday Giles!

It's Giles's 17th birthday today. Another milestone in this family, and I can choose whether this milestone pulls me further into the abyss or I can celebrate that we all made it this far. I love this kid. He is amazing. He gets treated horribly by authority figures because of his hair and his inability to cow tow to the bullshit that attacks him. He is so strong, yet he loves to be told how proud you are of him. He treats with respect those who deserve it, but certainly is smart enough to ascertain those who don't. He is hilarious and plays the worst music in the world, but he loves it, and I love it when he smiles. He has experienced 2 more years than Loughlin did. 17 more years than Rhiannon did. There is the stone that sinks me further. I think I will just float on my back and rest a while. The deep can wait.

That's not me anymore

That’s not me anymore

I used to wake each day looking forward to a new endeavor.

I used to crack a joke. I was quick. I was clever.

That’s not me anymore.

I used to enjoy a huge crowd, eyes on me as I took the stage.

I read every book I could find and hung on every page.

That’s not me anymore.

I loved to cook all kinds of cuisine.

My house was never perfect, but it was clean.

But that’s not me anymore.

I loved the farm, the bulls, the cows and the lil calves.

Always content, never worried about the didn’t haves.

I’ll never be like that anymore.

I loved to watch my kids in everything they did.

Every song, every hit, every set, even when they slid.

It’s just not me anymore.

I loved my husband with every ounce of my soul.

We went everywhere together. Eternity was my goal.

That’s just not me anymore.

I can’t say I was always smiling, but the joy shined through.

Days I was down there was only just a few.

But I’m not like that anymore.

Back then I believed there was a God that cared about my life.

I believed in forever families and wanted to be a forever wife.

But I don’t believe like that anymore.

I spend days now wondering why I am even here.

All my mistakes and flaws are showing crystal clear.

Cuz that’s not my life anymore.

Getting out of bed each day shouldn’t be a struggle.

And at night I want to be alone. Never want to cuddle.

Happiness eludes me. I don’t feel it anymore.

I worry every moment, every day, every minute.

If this is it. I quit. I don’t want to be in it.

I don’t want to live anymore.

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. 💔

The impending 10 year mark is suffocating me.

.
I am shaking
Heart breaking
No faking
I want to die
10 long years
All my fears
They came true
I never knew
A pain like this
The child I miss
Could change us all
I sit. I scream. I bawl.
Where are the smiles?
Nothing but trials.
I have failed.
My hands not nailed
My cross I have to carry
The weight makes me weary,
My mind is scrambled
His life I gambled.
I see him lying there.
God how can this be fair?
One life gone, but 7 destroyed.
Lives of hell were deployed.

I will always be your mom........

I know you are no longer here.
I know I will never see you in this life again.
I know that my last memories of you were horrendous.
I know that no one understands the pain.
I know that no one understands the guilt.
It was me that saw you last.
It was me that spoke to you last.
It was me who was responsible for your well-being.
It was me who failed miserably.
It was me that changed your diapers, fed and clothed you.
It was me that showed you love everyday.
I will always be your mom.
But I will never get to hold you or kiss you.
I will never get to see your smiling face.
I will never see you graduate or get married or have kids.

I will never grow old reaping your blessings.

God everyday I wake up pleading for you to be home.
There are not miracles, nor God, nor Oden, nor Christ.
There is no heaven.
There is not even relief for the nightmare that is my life.
I am running hard but the reaper will not let go of my jacket.
He is laughing and I am panicked, popping the Valium to just be able to breathe.
Some days I go backwards, but I am on the uphill climb.

I love Hospitals

I was scheduled for a endoscopy and colonoscopy on Friday. Thursday I started the "cleaning out" process. I started the drain at about 8pm. I had cramps in my back and could barely leave the bathroom. I never slept all of Thursday night. I have a very sensitive stomach and I was miserable. So nothing to eat after Thursday 8pm, and nothing to drink after 4am Friday. I was in good spirits when I got there. (well I hate hospitals and my anxiety was huge) I went in for the procedure and they could not give me enough pain medicine. I was hurting, waking up out of a dead sleep to horrendous pain. They said they couldn't give me anymore meds and it wasn't controlling the pain. I made it through though.

I went home and slept. Saturday I still felt terrible, but Harlen wanted to get the house cleaned up, so I got up and helped, unwillingly. Sunday I started feeling better, but by the night my stomach was getting nauseated. I went to bed, woke up at 1am with horrendous acid reflux. It felt like it was burning my up from the inside out. It was one of my worst bouts. I threw up and I threw up. I threw up so hard I wet my pants. So I showered at 2am. I got out got dressed and started throwing up again. I threw up so hard I broke blood vessels in my eyes. I wet my pants again. (Getting old and having had 7 kids sucks) So I took my 2nd shower at about 3:30 am .

I got dressed and set pillows on my bed so that I was sitting and tried to get some sleep. It wasn't easy still. I was exhausted.

So last night I really needed some shut eye. I went to bed at 10. I had a small bit of reflux but slept through it. At 4 am I woke up with horrible diarrhea. The cramps were so bad up and down my back I was crying. It was with me on and off for the rest of the night and even this morning. I hope this is not a complication from the colonoscopy. I would rather throw up any day of the week.

I have one more test to complete and hopefully the Doc will agree to the surgery. It is hard to be a good wife and mom when you never feel good.

Yesterday Giles played football against Vale, ( the rival team) . I don't understand the rival because I never grew up here. They won 16-8. Everyone was excited. I was mmmmmmm . Giles didn't play much. I wish he would have just had fun instead of insisting on playing a sport he could really get hurt in.
Today Lea plays her 2nd to last volleyball game. She loves it and is going to miss it.

Finding Answers to my health problems

I completed one test on Friday and I have 2 left most likely leading to surgery. 1/2 of my stomach is above my diaphragm . ( worse than the picture). I am sick quite often,3/5 days a week. I throw up. I have acid reflux that goes all the way up my nose. I wake up in a dream I am drowning and I am downing in my own acid. I am so tired. I can't go back to sleep afterwards.

I am worried about the outcome of the further tests but I am also relieved to know there could be an end to this part of my misery in life. Friday is my next test, an Endoscopy and Colonoscopy. Sounds like a party at my house Friday night. haha. You know it is bad when I am letting someone go that way on me. I am scared and grossed out. Immature perhaps but that is me. Hopefully I can get this fixed before the end of the year.

Wish me luck.