Posts Tagged ‘sadness’

I’ve always had an issue with “loss”.  I have tried to deal with it, and just when I think I have it beaten– it creeps up again.  When I was 6 years old, my brother died.  He was my hero, my bubba, my best friend.  I had never loved anyone as much as I loved him.  You see, my house was a divided family.  Still is.  My father had been married previously and so had my mother.  They both had children already when they met, then Voila! Here I come along.  So, I made #7 place.  Phillip was 8 years old when I was born, and he had been looking forward to me arriving.  Even went out and bought a blue baby-boy’s blanket, with his own money.  He really, really, really wanted a little brother, but got me and was thrilled.  We were best of pals.  We went everywhere together.  We rode our bikes to the taco plaza and ate taco’s together.  Went to baskin robbins and ate ice cream, then played in the parks.  (back then, it wasn’t as scary)  He walked with me hand in hand one day….okay, dragging me behind him, to return a lollipop I had stolen from the store.  He made me apologize and everything.  He rescued me from a field of thorns and stickers, and carried me home.  I have memories, but they keep fading as the years roll by me.  I miss him so much to this day. 

A short while after his death, while my family was still reeling from his loss, a series of events took place in my life.  First of all, when your a child, you just dont think its possible that someone you know could die.  We all think that we are immortal to a certain extent.  I was no exception, in thinking that my brother would some day come back to me.  My mother discovered she was pregnant.  At last!!  I would have someone in my life!!  She was very ill during that pregnancy.  As her tummy grew, and our anticipation grew, my mother just wore out.  She carried that little angel named Lisa, to full term and gave birth to her.  She was dead.  My mother never got to see her newborn, only my father.  My father had been through enough already, he insisted they let him see his baby girl.  She looked like me, that’s what he has always said about her.  Its all he can remember.  My mother almost died from that, but while she was recovering, my dad was just slipping away.  I walked in on him, as he was putting the barrell into his mouth.  He was crying.  He was in so much agony.  I slowly slipped out of the room and sat down on the floor, by the wall.  I stared at the giant mimosa tree in our back yard, where Phillip and I used to play.  My mommy was sick, my daddy wanted to die and leave me too.  My oldest sister, didn’t like me much.  She regretted my father for having me, she regretted that I was his little girl so much.  They weren’t on speaking terms at all.  But….she comforted me on that day, but she didn’t know why.  I never told anyone, and he never did either.  Been a little secret my whole life, and one that eats at me. 

So, when summer time arrived, I played mostly at the neighbors house.  There was a girl there who was nice to me, and she had 3 brothers. They had been friends to my own brother.  I found comfort in that some how.  It made me remember Phillip.  It made me feel close to him again, so I enjoyed it.  We ate snacks together, we played outside, rode our bikes, and Rhonda was telling me everything I needed to know about school.  I was to begin school in the fall.  I was sooo nervous, and didn’t want to go.  The mere thought of going to school terrified me.

One day, my friend Rhonda was gone.  She had went to her mothers house for the weekend.  Well, her brothers were still next door and invited me over to play awhile–and I always agreed.  This day was different though.  Her oldest brother had singled me out to hang out with on that afternoon, and I was so happy for it.  I missed my brother so much, I talked about him all of the time.  Well, Glen used this information to his sick advantage.  There was this old volkswagen van that was all tore up sitting in their yard for a long time.  I had heard that they were smoking pot in there, and never go inside.  I should have listened to “them”, whoever they were because I cant remeber now who told me that.  It was possibly my brother, but not sure.  Glen had figured out a way to get me to do whatever he wanted though–he was smart.  He used my dead brother as his pawn, for his sick and twisted ways.  One day we go into the van, he forces me to do things that I had never known of.  Shouldn’t have known about.  He makes it all better each time by telling me its what my brother would have wanted me to do, etc.  Then the threats started.  I was scared silly about anyone finding out what had happened.  Then the guilt began.  I was so worried about it all because Glen had made me believe that it was all my fault.  I was a scared, mixed up, messed up little girl.  When school finally started, I didn’t want to be seperated from my mom.  I didn’t want to be out of her sight, because what if something happened to her too? I sat in the corner of my classroom rocking wildly back and forth while the children all called me names.  Why wouldn’t they all just leave me alone?! For the first time in my life….I wanted to die.  AND, I was only barely 7 years old.  Secrets can really hurt.  They can mess you up in ways you never thought.  I was constantly taken to the hospital by my parents, I was in constant pain.  If not emotional, it was a physical thing.  I had stomach ulcers by the time I was 9, and gallstones too.  They said that my stomach just produced too much acid naturally, causing all kinds of chaos on my body.  I was the poster child for a nervous wreck already.  What a beginning I had.  What an introduction.  Sometimes, I think I was just a waste, like someone needed to start over.  So thats what I did.  After begging my parents in a slobbery, pathetic way to never-ever-ever die one night, I was comforted.  My mom and I began going to church across the street from our house.  I made friends there.  My mom changed.  I changed.  My dad worked hard at change, but he needed more time.  More space.  He wanted to continue to mourn for his lost son, because when he started to become happy again, that wouldn’t be fair for his dead son you see.  So it took him years, to show happiness.  I missed alot from him.  He’s never recovered.  I need to make that clear.  He never will.  When you lose a child, your world just stops.  Sometimes for years.  I, in a weird sense, have never recovered either.  The day that I forgot my brothers voice, was the worst day of my life.  You take advantage of all these little, itty things in life, until one day you forget them altogether.  I still try to remember his voice, but I never can.  I miss him still.  My first born son–carry’s his name for me now.  I will never forget him, his smile, his laugh.


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Okay.  So spring has finally erupted here in North Texas.  We had to deal with a last minute Snow/blizzard thingy, but now its over.  I think.  I hope.  My tulips are budding out, the trees are starting to leave out, etc.  Its a beautiful time, and my favorite time.  But why am I so “bla”??  I dont get it.  At the current time, I have so many issues going on in my little life.  Im sick, to be the first of all my despair.  I am currently being tested for “Cushings Syndrome”, which will then lead to a diagnosis of “Cushings-Disease” if what they find is accurate.  Im not thrilled to have that particular diagnosis–however, I want them to finally label it with something–anything.  Once I had been given the label of “fibromyalgia”, everything stopped.  Any/Every symptom I had from there on out, was just poohed on.  Once that diagnosis is made~~BEWARE! You will never have anything else as far as they think.  Because, Fibromyalgia is just a ball of “everything” out there, and anything applies to it.  I have often just run away from calling my illness that.  It just doesn’t seem real to me, or its just a made up label to get rid of you.   It may sound crazy to most.  But I just want this chapter of my illness to be over and go away, be treated, or something.  Im apparantly a walking question mark to my doctors.  They are pretty puzzled by me, and haven’t quite figured it all out.  I feel like one of those Mystery Diagnosis shows on TLC channel.  On-going now for about 7 years or so.  I do have all the signs and symptoms of the Cushings, except the purple striae marks they speak of.  Im the heaviest I’ve ever been in my whole life–and its freaking me out.  Most of my weight has congregated in my tummy, upper-back and that darned buffallo hump on my neck.  I cant find any clothes to fit me correctly, and wouldn’t be caught dead in shorts/or short sleeved shirt.  I want the madness to end,I want the dreary sadness left behind from winter to leave me.  I need sunshine to survive folks.  Literally.  I have to go outdoors several times a day and just close my eyes–stand there in the sunshiny moment, and breathe.  The only exception is when my Mother n Law see’s me, and decides that she wants to come over and talk for hours about how her mother abused her.  I tell you what~my mother n law is the walking/talking poster child of OCD/and Darned CRAZY people.  She has never had a therapist, but needs one.  She looks to me to be that for her instead.  It makes me crazy.  To the point that I rarely go outside anymore, and I rarely leave my own house.  If the moment occurs that she is leaving–I see her purple van drive out, I jump to the opportunity to do something.  Sound crazy??  Well, that’s the way it has been for about 5 years now.  Im in a place in my life where I literally dont know who I am anymore.  I try and try to do things…..but there’s always something there stopping me for finishing any of it.  My life is just a shadow it seems.  Sorry to be so negative….trying to cling to ANYthing that I can today.  70ish degrees for here, sun is brightly shining.  New kittens on my porch, the whole world open, but I feel like a lazy rock.  Or a white crayon.  Peace to you all~!~praying that the other half of creation is having a glorious day.  Remember me, in your prayers.  I covet them all.  truly. 

~~till another time,


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