Since Mel died, there has been so much fog, and so much haze. I have never had a loss like losing Mel and any loss after her was small change compared to her. It’s not that the people I lost since her weren’t horrible, but Mel was big, personal, traumatizing, and deep.
She was my major gut punch.
Mr. Yummy and PD were huge and painful, but they only piled on an already bad and dangerous pain.
I still love him. I always will, but I will never get over the way he just disappeared and ghosted me after Mel died. Telling me HOW to process and how the way I was doing it, was wrong. Fuck you, for that. Mr. Yummy will always be the one who evoked an emotion in me, like no other. But I already knew he was an asshole when PD said he was an asshole and she didn’t like him.
I didn’t like him much either at that time, but I could not at that time process the loss of him. I had to get to a dead point. By dead point, I mean my feelings for him went dead. I would have rather stayed with my sissy and the asshole she lived with, than be around him because he just hurt me. He was a big loss on a big loss. It just compounded my depression. I sat in his house with all those guns, alone, depressed, angry, sad, overwhelmed and wanting to not fucking feel the pain of losing Mel. I won’t lie. I had a gun in my mouth. I couldn’t leave that as the last memory Mr. Yummy had of me. In his house. with HIS gun. It would have been a delicious Fuck You, though.
PD sucked because she just compounded the loss by kicking my ass to the curb, the very day I decided that if Mr. Yummy wanted to be with me, he would make himself available to spend time with me. He wasn’t busy working like he said he was, He wasn’t off taking care of his grand-kids, and I know this to be true. He was running from me and my sadness and whatever else he didn’t have the balls to say to me. I finally realized that.
I cried prior to losing Mr. Yummy and PD. but once it was done, I just went dead to them. Being dead emotionally was easier than falling farther apart. It’s that simple. And this is a small moment of clarity to me.
It’s Friday night and time to wake and bake.
I changed the theme. I think it’s a push for me to start writing again.
I’m also going to write really honestly.
Here are some truths.
I miss The Girl. I am pretty sure she knows this. I’ve never stopped loving her, though I fear her intensely because at one time, she had the power, and used it to try and hurt me. It worked. I’d love to have a relationship with her, but I also fear it. Trust and all.
I am moving on in life after so many losses, but in all honesty if I die today, I am pretty OK with that. I don’t think I am courting death, but maybe I am. I’m not going to the doctor and I have some pretty serious things going on with my body. Do I ignore it longer and go till I drop, or do I go to the doctor?
I’m not really into more of the same. I have kind of had enough of the loss.
I am probably more closed off than ever, because to let anyone in that close would mean to trust, and I am very, very, very careful about who I hand actual trust to.
On the other side, I know the things I have experienced, seen and felt, to be true. It’s just that life hit me so hard I fell off the path. I’ve not gone back to that same hateful person, but there is this wall of protection around me and when you live like that, you aren’t really living at all. You’re sitting around, waiting for it to be done. My life has felt like the last act, of a bad play, that will not fucking end.
But still I am waiting. I don’t know for what, but I am waiting.
I’m thinking I know what I personally need to do, but I have procrastinated because to jump back into it means work and I know that with so much hidden emotion and denied feeling, it’s going to be heavy. It can’t be any heavier than keeping all this shit inside me, can it?
There are things I am totally happy about also.
I love my little apartment. I love that the things I do in my life, are mine. I do them when I want and no one criticizes me, tells me I am wrong, disapproves, or hits me.
I love my few friends I have kept. These are the people I trust and am comfortable with.
Yesterday, I read something I wrote a few moths before the stroke. How odd. As things were getting better and I was happy because of Mr. Yummy, my move, my job, my soaring spiritual awakening, there was a point I admitted I feared what was coming. In all honesty I seriously thought The Girl was about to make an appearance and I wasn’t sure I could do it. That would have been so much easier than losing Mel, Mr. Yummy and Arie. All within a short time span. Back to back. It felt so cruel. it made me ask if I was a good person? I sort of began to doubt my value. I forgot I am what I am and deserve what I deserve, as do you.
I’ve wanted to write you for so long now, but just haven’t let myself do so. So much to say, so much has changed, and I’ll never be the same.
I’m not over you and I am accepting I never will be. I’m not walking around crying all the time and it doesn’t consume me 24/7 like the first year, but the wound has not healed. Sean is gone. He pretty much checked out when you had the stroke. He didn’t even wait for you to die. As soon as I went into my best friend is dying mode, he checked out because it didn’t fit with his carefree, no responsibility, my joy comes from my bike and a bottle, lifestyle. Do I regret it? No, I had to know and now I do. It is a relief to have let go of the last 16 years of loving and missing a memory.
In the midst of losing everyone close to me, I lost my job. Girl, I got fired. Never have I been fired and it totally fucked with my sense of worth. I got fired June 20th and was back to employment by September 1st. The day I got fired, I was headed to sign a lease on a great house. I couldn’t pull the trigger knowing I lost my job, so I am again, without my own doors. The goal is to be moved before December. I;m waiting for my sister to get back from an out of town job and then, we look again. They boys are going to help me move, though they don’t know it completely yet.
I miss our talks and our laughs. You, as my soul mate, fed my soul. It misses you, as do I. I can’t help but feel like you knew it was time to check out.Can you believe the state of the world? Trump is the GOP Nominee. The DNC stole the election from Sanders. Republicans have been invading the party of the donkey and they have become the new Dempublicans. It’s a free for all on Black lives, because we SAY #BlackLivesmatter, but you know us, our words and actions differ. We ain’t woke yet.
The last Indian Wars have started. Currently we have #StandingRock, #BakkenPipelineReistance, #MississippiStand, all protecting the fact that #WaterIsLife and the people say #NoDAPL. I pray we #GetWoke. If not, I’ll be joining you a lot sooner, than I thought.
I feel such guilt at NOT being at Standing Rock.
Someone in my family had this done. This is NOT MY DNA test, but that of an older sibling so since we have the same parents…I personally think this test is not accurate for what I want to know. I also don’t trust anyone who just wants to sell me a membership. We talked about this when you were alive. You knew the reasons I wanted the multi thousand dollar test verses the ones from genealogy sites The Native Signature is there. I AM Indigenous. I’ll never know my tribe and I remain a split feather, but it’s there. The fight is now Spanish or Mexican. My sister denounces any Mexican blood, but since “Mexican” is the result of rape by Spaniards and the Nican Tlaca, I identify for now, as NicanTlaca, Indigenous and European.
I miss your huge tiny being. My new job (Driving for a catering company) gives me a lot of time to think about you. I think about you EVERY DAY multiple times a day. I sometimes carry your ashes with me. I haven’t snorted them yet.
I really miss you my love. I will leave you for now, with images close to my heart.
I know things are brewing.
I just have to stay open and at the moment, in a few instances, I can really feel unresolved shit beneath it all. It is up to me to let go and forgive and replace the anger with love.
There are two people in my life that sort of stood outside when I tumbled down the rabbit hole. Actually, that is not correct, it’s just that these two people are so close, and so loved, that the chasms dig deep. NEVER, not once have I stopped loving. NOT ONE DAY has passed that I haven’t thought of them, but I haven’t let go of the hurt and sometimes, anger associated with it all.
Regardless, I am at a point in my life, where I am happy. I know how to be happy. I know how to choose love and happiness and those doors are always, and have always been open on my side. The hurt and anger is because, it’s not a two-way street.
The difference for me, in my life NOW, is I know that I AM love.
It’s time to shower and prepare for another day of beeswax.
That shit, rocks my world. I wish I could explain it to you, but I seriously feel totally grounded by it. More than ever, I want to bee-keep. Somewhere out there is a place where I will do this. I know through work, I have connections.
With growth, come growing pains.
With ownership, sometimes just comes pain.
The company I work for is AMAZING. We recently were awarded the highest rated green award for our recycling efforts. I am proud of this.
The owners and management of my company, are also caring and compassionate. At the moment…I am really appreciating this fact. Recently, a good friend’s mother passed away. I asked the owner if we could make some memorial candles for my friend, who also happens to be the company’s tax preparer, along with how I got this job. They of course, went out of their way to do it, and then because of the companies relationship with my friend, did not charge me. Here is the final product:
After giving them to my friend, and seeing how much her whole family enjoyed them and are planning to order more for the entire clan, I was proud. I also started thinking about my grandson that passed away. As I have wailed and stated repeatedly, I never got to meet him during his short six month life. I never had anyone call me grandma, I never got to smell him, or look in his eyes, have him grab my finger, or watch my daughter become a mother. There is a lot of pain there and as much as I have not felt it…I did something without thinking how it would make me react.
I decided that I wanted candles like that, to give my mother, my two sisters, my daughter, myself and my ex-husband. Yes, I am including my abuser, he lost a grandson too. I spoke to the owner this morning and asked him if I could order six similar candles. Of course he asked questions and so my story came out. It was a condensed version without all the dirt. He expressed his sympathy and said they would do it for me. I was happy. I felt like I was doing something that made me own the fact that for once, for a short time, I was a grandmother.
I sat down and continued working. Then I realized my daughter told me my grandson’s name. His first name. I don’t know his middle name. I can assume his last name. I have ONE picture of him, I stole it from the father’s FB page. I have to go to my sister, who is the only one who met my grandson for more photos. All of it hit me, and the tears started. I sat, crying, processing candles while blind with tears for two hours. I kept working as long as the tears stayed silent. When the sobs started in the bathroom, I found my manager and checked out, grateful for the compassion that I am not always sure I deserve. (See that? How easy it is to slip in to old thinking?)
As I am feeling these emotions I have not yet allowed myself to feel, I also am asking myself what the tears are for? Are they for my daughter and her loss, or are they just selfishly for myself? Is it wrong of me to ask my little sister to get my daughter and my older sister their candles, and not tell them they are from me, or this is where I work?
My first “want” when I left work was to call Mr. Yummy and look for a band-aide, but that is an old pattern. I decided to come home, FEEL this and write, burn my Clarity scented candle and center myself back to the now.
I felt my growing pains and didn’t stuff them. I think this is a good thing. It hurts, and it sucks, but I did it, which must mean I was ready to feel it.
One thing I know, the love and support of my friends and family, is a very nice offset.