Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Missing Him...

Tracy's mom was at the funeral. She couldn't even speak when she hugged me, just wrapped herself around me and started to cry. I held onto her and remembered Tracy, desperately wishing she didn't end her life with his gun, and that she was there to hug me right back.

I miss a lot of things in my life. I miss a lot of people that have come and mysteriously disappeared.

I wish Life would understand that I NEED her to leave me alone and let me live... or try to live, anyway.

I'm drinking again, against the better judgement and concern of my readers. I understand drugs and alcohol are not the answer, but they sure do make great place-holders while waiting for the answers to all my angry, painful, disgusting questions.

I'm sorry I cannot do this any other way.

I am alone.

Drugs and alcohol are my best friends.

I haven't smoked pot since the weekend after Valentine's, but it's definately time to reload. I take that back. I smoked the day after her funeral, and I skipped work the following two days because I wanted to do nothing but be high and watch tv.

She is really dead.

I cannot ever talk to her, see her, touch her, hug her, tell jokes with her, learn from her...

I've been having a strange and difficult time since her death.

Tonight, I just lay in my bed for a while, totally and completely glazed, staring at absolutely nothing, but just thinking about absolutely everything. I was curled up, covers off, with my body frozen in a fetal position... too scared to move... too empty to feel...

Everything is different.

And while I was lying in my bed, I realized... I miss him - my boyfriend.

I don't have one, but I desperately wish I did these days, especially in times like this.

He would just lay beside me and hold me, not ever needing to say a word, but just laying his body gently next to mine. He would make me feel safe. He would carefully brush my hair away, slowly and softly kiss my trembling lips and wrap himself around me so tight that not even my nightmares could pull us apart.

That's my favorite - being wrapped around each other like rattlesnakes. Just lying together, not having to say or do anything... just letting yourself be. Just letting yourself relax in his safe arms, warm up to his tender skin, and feel your two hearts beating, dancing, together.

I have already polished half a bottle of wine.

I know I am only numbing my pain.

I commented the below on Survivor's site (post 04/08/06) on the night of her funeral... or maybe just after, I don't fucking remember... everything is so blurry, foggy, gray...


hi sweetie... so sorry you are having such dark and difficult days... wish i could take it all away from you. if this helps at all, everything you write TOTALLY makes sense. i know that we understand that about each other, so please, i beg you, to NEVER discount your feelings because you are not alone in feeling them. & while i hate how much everything hurts, how deep i feel the memories cut the insides of my heart and soul, the ONLY thing that helps me is knowing that:


we are on the same wavelength w/the numbness being bliss part... if feeling so many confusing highs & lows is so draining and painful, then why even bother feeling them at all? why torture ourselves w/this pain & turmoil? why not just smoke a bowl (or do a line in my case) and color the world a lovely shade of intoxicated and loaded?

before i forget, though, i want to mention that i experienced incredible mood swings & horrible nightmares when i stopped smoking pot. i also thought it would be easier to just reload, roll a blunt, and get lost in my make-believe happy world again. but i knew i had to feel everything because it has been so many fucking years that i havent let myself feel anything at all.

and in a weird, twisted way, i guess just feeling numb to everything we have survived thus far in our young and innocent lives is probably the most draining and taxing feeling of all... it is the one feeling that has to work soooo fucking hard to keep all of the other feelings shoved way deep down.

damn - i cant believe i just wrote that...

but it makes sense, doesn't it?

thats why all i want these days is a line or a pill or a bowl or a drink... but i know i cant have it for some reason... for my angel that went into hiding during my rape... i have to stay clean and sober for her... well, clean anyway... uh... i guess pot is okay since its natural, right? think ill be needing to reload shortly -

take care of yourself... ill be thinking about you and hoping you keep muscling through the days...

ive been struggling just as hard lately, so please trust you are not alone...

this all just fucking sucks, doesnt it?

but we will get through this.

we ARE getting through this.

it just hurts along the way sometimes...

email me if you need to talk at all...

8:38 PM

I only posted the above because while I was commenting on her site, I realized that everything I am doing to NOT remember is creating MORE work and pain for me in the long run... (says the anonymous blogger who continues to empty her oversized wine bottle into her sage-colored antique wine glass...)

I only miss having a boyfriend because I am incredibly vulnerable and scared right now, as I have been for quite some time. Let's face it - these things are not easy to read. It is not easy for me to confess my dirty little secrets. But I must purge them somehow, someway, because I am deathly afraid that if i don't, I will never let myself experience anything relating to love and trust, my two most feared enemies I am desperately trying to call a truce with.

I'm afraid I'm not even making any sense right now.

I am so disconnected and still.

Like I was after I was raped.

But something is a little off, a little askew, a little different.

I know she is dead and I can't change that.

It's as if I am so angry and so torn that...

... I can't even complete sentences or thoughts anymore...

... I wonder what she would say if she were here right now...

"Don't stop yourself from feeling what you need to feel. Life is what it is. You will have a difficult future if you don't let your heart live. It's not good for your spirit to hold things inside - they grow inside of you and keep you from enjoying Life."

We used to talk about Life a lot when she was sick. I wish she were still here... I still need to talk to her about all kinds of things. She needs to be at my wedding. She needs to be here for the birth of my children. She needs to shop with me for my new house. She still needs to be here, alive and healthy.

I wish she weren't dead.

I desperately wish she wasn't gone.

I need her here.

More than I need to heal from my rape and abuse, I need her to be here.

I miss having a boyfriend because right now, he would tell me nothing at all, but just hold me a little tighter, kiss me a little slower and touch me a little softer. And all the while, I would know that I don't have to say or do anything to explain how I'm feeling because he would just understand they are feelings.

And we don't get to choose our feelings... they just are.

And he would appreciate my confusion to the point of almost loving it, and ultimately, loving me.

I only miss him because I am not just alone anymore, I am...

... speechless...

I don't know what is happpening.

I don't know where I'm going.

I don't know who I'm becoming.


Blogger jumpinginpuddles said...

you are grieving and all the things youve said are valid. Loss is hard and even harder when you dont understand why.

4/21/2006 2:43 PM  

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