Blog Archives


Sometimes, there is freedom in being told to fuck off.

It has taken me a long fucking time to find my peace, regardless that I would prefer a different outcome, but I am here.

I’ve taken my depression into my own hands. Micro baby steps, but after a week, I know I am doing the right thing and am going to continue with my current course. Sometimes it is better to listen to yourself, AKA, your gut.

It is funny, that I have become the mother to other women’s children. I was told this would happen to me, when I was really young. 17 years old and I was told I would have a child, but that child would not be mine, that I would be the mother to the world’s children. Here at 51, I have 5 other kids, aside from the one I gave birth to and two of them have a child.

These other children who have found a way into my life, love me for ME.

So, I’m moving forward, sure in what I am doing and curious to see what life is going to bring me in this new chapter of a new and different/changed me.

I read a card in the grocery store today. It is something I would have sent Mel. I felt that deep pang and loss of having my best friend here in the world, but I didn’t break down and cry. After mourning her for so long, I feel like I am sort of mourning the loss of something people take for granted every single day, a best friend. Maybe someday I will connect with someone again and, if I do, I will be grateful, and a better friend because I have known the best.



It’s what I have come to feel.

She hurled hate at me. She blames, blames, blames, but has no desire to know the truth. She hides, safe in the bubble of familiar.

She watches me. Pretty odd for someone who doesn’t give a shit. I care, but I don’t. I will never set myself up to be punished by her again. Were she to try and contact me, I don’t know how far I would be willing to go. I will never turn away someone I love. Make no mistake, I love her, but I also will never let a dog who bites, bite me again. I am also very , very unlikely to bring her around Mr. Yummy. I keep him safe. We may have been through some shit this last year, but we are finally talking. There is finally some fire burning again, and he is…above my abusive and abusing past.

I feel less and less for her, because that is what SHE wants. I don’t know if I would ever turn it around or could trust again.

This is not what I ever wanted, but I am OK with it, because I have to be OK with it. Unlike her (you, because I know your eyes or someone else is checking in) I don’t stalk. I am strong enough to face anything. Surviving the losses I have survived the last five years, has taught me this.

So the hate she invests in me, is not hurting me. I don’t feel it, seething and eating away and robbing her soul of peace. It doesn’t hurt me, not like it hurts her. It has actually started to fade, because I have no choice.

I took a new step yesterday. It’s one I have been thinking of doing for a few years, to ratchet up that Spiritual journey.

Sometimes baby steps are actually micro steps.

One Year (plus one day)

Whabbit and Mel - Copy

Yesterday was one year since you let out your final breath as you arrived at the end of your journey.

What have I learned since then?

I realize that in a way, I’ve sort of grown up a bit. All those fears and issues I would have with life, you know the ones that we would always come back to in conversation, have had to be dealt with on my own. I didn’t have the safety net of you; the one person I could say anything to.

At first it was chest grabbing and crushing. I’d feel the panic start and that buzzing cycle that runs through an ever thinking brain, full of “what-ifs”. I have sort of learned over the last year that when I can’t reach out to you, I won’t explode. My world won’t explode but, I’ve had to resolve MY issues, on my own. That, or suffer the consequences of the cycle of obsessive thinking.

Over time, I’m learning to actually walk the rope of life on my own. Some days it is hard, other days, “I got this, girl.” Always though, I miss you and am grateful for you. Regardless of every thing you did and didn’t do to yourself, my hurt, anger, sadness…you have taught and continue to teach me much. I know I’ll never have a fill in for you, but I will always be a better friend, because of us.

I don’t feel guilty anymore for how I feel about your kids. They are mine now. We will always have a bond because of you and I will always be a tie to you, with them. I’m pretty sure you would be OK with that. Living, and watching your children grow and live, will honor you.. I will never be you to them, but I am Auntie and I will there when they need a mom figure to turn to.

The plus one day…

I woke up this morning, went out back to smoke in the frosty darkness. I thought:

So I, am 1 today. One year ago today I woke up to live without you holding my hand. I’ve been doing it one my own for a year and a day now. I’m pretty sure I am going to make it. It does feel like it will be ever so much longer without you here. I miss your laugh and you quick witted, cutting humor. I miss your love, though I know it is still there following me, as mine still does you. It’s the loss of physical you. It’s made me feel so selfish because all of this grief has been about me. My sadness. My loss. My feelings. Me, me me.

I still cry, just not as often. I just went to get a tissue to wipe my eyes and saw your ashes in the slender vile. I had taken them out the other night because I was debating them taking you with me on the one year day; to have you close to me. Instead I left you here. When I saw the vile I began to really cry. Holding the vile close to try and hug what I have left of what physically held your beautiful soul and then tucking you back in my safety place.

I also realize that everyday, the randomness of death touches someone. If you are lost, wandering, not knowing how to deal with your grief and reading this… I am so sorry for your loss. There is nothing I can say to you to make anything make sense, or stop hurting, but I do understand grief, and I am sorry you are here. My only words I can even attempt to share, the words I hang onto in the darkest moments are that Love…never dies. Physically, it changes how you live it, but it never dies, because it’s pure energy. I know that Melissa’s energy went back to beginning so it didn’t just die. It absorbed back into where it originated from. I originated from this place, and so did you. I just haven’t always recognized the moments that it still touches me, but a few times I have. Those little moments keep me going.

So, one year, plus one day. I still love you.


Walking After You

Only you could hear this, and understand my true meaning and how this relates to our friendship, my loss, coming to after the wreckage of the stroke.

Mr. Y and I had a talk a while ago. It wasn’t pretty. I don’t know if he meant to use his words to hurt me, but he did. The worst part, was him saying I was made the CHOICE to go to you in Texas, put myself in debt, etc. and that it was different from the choices he would have made. I mean I felt bad about the fact that I ran to you. I felt like it was wrong, but on the same hand, only I know I have been silently wishing I hadn’t gone, and given myself those last memories of you. No the worst part was him spitting at me that I have made him feel like a storage unit, a toaster and that he has given me everything and I want more.

I realize though, that I knew you were dying. As soon as D said the words, “My mom had a stroke and is in surgery now having a clot removed from her brain”. I knew.

And yet I don’t regret you dying and knowing, I was there for you and loved you and I had your back. It’s just that now, I hear the line, “If you walk out on me, I’m walking after you…I’m on your back” I lived this and it didn’t have a happy ending.

You can’t be everything. If you were, then I made a mistake of not eating a bullet and living another day to say I am alive. You just can’t be everything. My life was happening without you being here. You left a long time ago to Texas and I thought I would die then, but I learned to adjust. I learned to live again. I learned to be happy again. Granted I was on the phone with you damn near every day, I had learned to live without you in many ways. I began taking chances, I reached out for happiness and pretty much had it till the day you had a merry strokemas.

As much as I love you, I remain SO disappointed in you. You were too smart to be that stupid. So selfish. You left your fucking kids. You put something really other than them in first place. At first it was a person. Then it became the self medication. I have moments where I am still really fucking pissed off at you. It leaves me sitting here thinking, “Fuck you and your anguish. Thanks for destroying so many other lives (mine) on your fucking way out you bitch.”

I miss you and love you.

And always fucking will.


It’s not always bad when I go quiet. Sometimes, I am off having the time of my life.

That is not the case as of late. It’s been a pretty bad couple of months. After the memorial, I just went dark and deep. I have been, and remain very depressed and slightly suicidal. Being slightly suicidal is like being a little pregnant.

I’ve had some pretty dark moments. I now know what cold metal tastes like. I couldn’t do that to Mr. Y. He would hate me forever if he walked into his house and found me like that.

I know. I’m pretty fucked up.

I wonder where did I go? That woman who was so tied to the Universe and creation? Where is she and how do I connect with her again?

I want to talk to my emotional twin. I miss her. I miss feeling her. I miss laughing with her. I miss looking beyond our differences.

This is all for now.

%d bloggers like this: