Word vomit

 Im sorry, I'm sorry, that's all I ever seen to say. Things are so so rough right now. I just don't have the energy for much else but raising my child. Having a disability is a full time job and I have several. Being a mom is a full time job. I am beyond exhausted, but still always striving to make things better. 

It's temporary, everything is temporary. For better or worse, it's all temporary. So I shut down, and I push people away. But I am so grateful for those who are there for me anyway. I know I can get through this. I he r to, because there's no other choice. But I hate the way I feel. Just this awful feeling like I'm failing. I'm just overwhelmed, and I know it'll get better. 

Eventually. 

When the dam bursts

 "Do you have dogs?"

I'm pretty sure those were the first words I ever really spoke to you. Confused, you answered something about that being a random question. I remember laughing, warning you that that wasn't nearly the most random thing you'd ever hear me say. An

d besides, I was talking about the two random dogs on your deck. 

And now that you're gone, I can't remember the last time we spoke. I'd been thinking late last week about how distant we'd grown and considered reaching out to see if we could bridge the gap. 

But I didn't, and now I just have to live with that. 

And I am so angry. You had so much life left to live. My heart breaks for your wife, your kids, your mother. For all of us that loved you and are struggling to adjust to a world without you. I'm so sad you'll never get to meet my daughter. She'd have loved you and I know you'd have gotten a kick out of her. 

I hate that I didn't take the time to have one last conversation. I hate that all I'm left with are a flood of memories that should be funny, but my pain and rage casts a long shadow. 

I hope you didn't even know you had passed until you woke up on the other side. I hope there really is another side, and that forever isn't really forever. I hope you know that I still cared.

I hope that someday, given enough time, Ill be able to simply appreciate having you in my life as long as I did. I was so fortunate to know you. 

Rest easy, my friend.

Goodbye. 

Flashbacks

 These flashbacks are so intense. I don't want to see your face when I close my eyes. I don't want to hear your voice in my head. I don't want to relive what you did to me. I want to forget it all and move on. But instead I'm forced to relive it all. But I'll ride this out just like I always do. I just have to hang on. But it's absolute hell.

Looking back

 I throw on Silverchair's Neon Ballroom and suddenly I'm a teenager again. I lay on the floor, just listening and singing and get through another day. 

Even then, all I really wanted in life was to raise kids and write novels. I struggled through years of chaos and fear and violence to get where I'm at now.

In the blink of eye, I was in a healthy relationship and the baby I'd waited so long for was on her way. Somehow, this my life now. I still have a lot of trauma to work through. I'm still trying to get rid of people I cut out of my life. I hope someday I can finally leave the past where it belongs and just enjoy my new, amazing life in peace. 

In the Blink of an Eye

I used to be a writer.

Used to be.

I haven't written anything substantial in at least four years. I was telling stories before I learned how to write. Growing up, I never went anywhere without at least two note books and a good pen. 

As an adult I spent hours upon hours writing- various attempts at novels, short stories, poetry, blog posts, articles. 

It was my hobby, my passion, the way I interacted with the world. 

And one day I realized it's been at least four years since I've written anything. 

Four years

This will not stand.

Stay tuned.