I’m burned out. I was superwoman too many months. Too many years. I’ve wasted too much time. Loving all the wrong people. Caring what other people think. I didn’t realize that I am mortal. That my time here is limited. I want to cherish each day. Love a little more. Live a little more. Hug a little tighter. Kiss a little longer. Dance in the rain. The diagnosis is coming faster than I’d like. October 5, 2015 I may have the answers I’m looking for. Until then, I go to bed embraced in the love of my life’s arms after tucking my sweet little love into bed. I cherish my support system. I’ll take it easy. As easy as fatigue will let me.
Category: Death
Lady Killer.
Very few people know my silent battles. They know nothing of the fear within me. I’m so blindingly optimistic most nights. Tonight I’m afraid. I fear death. I fear not living. I fear for my health. Not knowing isn’t the problem. I’m dead certain. It’s taking time to have someone tell me the truth and the outcome. I know all the symptoms. I know the results. I fear for my loved ones. This agony inside of me. I’m afraid of many things but this one thing I fear hearing. Hearing the diagnosis. My lady killer.
Suicide.
There was a woman once. She survived a divorce and a physically handicapped son. She survived heartbreak after heartbreak. This woman put Montgomery Ward out of business because one of their vehicles hit her child and rendered him handicap the rest of his life. She lifted and changed and cleaned her son well into his thirties. Her husband, his father, divorced her due to the strain in their relationship. She spent many years alone and fighting for her sons well being. One day a man came into her life. She believed they were in love. They decided to build a home together. After what I can only speculate as him breaking up with her did she shoot this man, wounding him but not killing him, set fire to his vehicle and disappeared. The cops searched for her for months. When they found her they used dental records to identify her body. This is where her story ends. RIP TMF.
Once there was a man. He loved his brothers with all his heart. He cherished his family and never missed out on a family get together. That man admitted himself to various mental health facilities due to his unstable condition. Narsistitic Personality Disorder. I can only speculate as to why he never found the help he needed. This man shot himself in the chest on his property thus ending his story. RIP JGT.
I am what sociologists consider a “suicide survivor.” This term means that I have loved ones who took their lives. TMF and JGT were my aunt and great uncle on opposite sides of my family. For many months I was furious with them with occasional guilt like I could’ve done something. One day I realized something of vital importance. We all age and our body gives in to death. But what if the soul gives in before the body? Suicide is the soul having had enough while the body is young. There’s no excuse for it but I find comfort in that thought. I’ll always love them.
The Mad Mind of Coraline 