So, today is the eighth anniversary of when you left this world. I want to say "when you left me," but I still like to think it was unintentional.
Just so you know, I just had a breakdown of volcanic proportions. It seems as though everything that has been going wrong in my life has decided to culminate on this very day. I've only got one word for it - annoying.
It's times like now that I'm both glad you're not here, but I could really use you. I'm glad you're not here, because I'd hate for you to see who/what I've become. I'm sure no one else will admit it, but I'm pretty much a horrible embarrassment to myself, and I know, to you. I'd never imagined myself, of all people, to be divorced at 30, and have nothing to show for myself. Sure, I have a regular job - what grocery store attendant doesn't? It's not that I ever thought I was better than anyone else, I just thought I was capable of doing better things. I certainly thought sanity wouldn't have been such a formidable adversary. I guess I always saw myself as still married to him, with kids, hopefully celebrating some sort of anniversary of some kind - certainly not this kind. I never would have imagined myself to be capable of the things that I HAVE done, especially the horrible transgressions I've committed against others.
What do I have to show for it?
A whole lot of empty pill and beer bottles for one. Tons of grey hair, wrinkles, and rapidly decreasing mental and physical health for another.
I never imagined myself here. I can honestly say that I would rather be dead than at this point in my life. Everything happens for a reason, but for the life of me, I couldn't begin to find a reason in anything that's happening now.
Pretty haughty for me to think that I deserve any more than the next person. I always think it's incredibly vain and self-centered for me to be worried about the trivialities in MY life, when other people have problems that are FAR worse than mine.
But you know, I try not to bother others with my worries. I keep to myself. But it's days like this that I'm just not so sure I can take it anymore. I wonder if you even remember who I was. I wonder if it even matters. I wonder if there ever will be a life after this, or if I'm always going to be stuck in this rut of an existence for some God-unknown eternity.
Mom, I know you've always taught me to be independent. And, it makes me feel weak to have to have my existence validated through other people. But, when you were here, you gave my life meaning. Then I met him, and I felt like I WAS someone, like I was capable of anything. First, I lost you. My life became unidirectional. It was like I'd lost my worth. Then, I lost him, and I lost everything.
And, now, I feel like I have nothing. And, nothing is what I have to show.
I have our family, and I'm so grateful for them. Every day, I thank God that they're mine. I have to say, they're the only ones who keep me going. But, they each have their own lives, and it kills me to ask them to take time out from those lives to take care of me. I know we're family, but it's just not right. I'm 30 years old, and I should be able to do this on my own.
Mama, I can't. I don't know how. Jesus Christ, if I feel like the biggest waste of space on this planet.
I know - how did I come up with all this, just because I lost the use of the car? You know me, though. Always the drama queen...or "Madonna" as you would call me, when I would show my ass.
The loneliness consumes me, like a sick, thick, inky, dark cloud. It envelopes me whole, taking a strong hold within my heart, following me around wherever I go, speaking to me when I slow down - on the elevator, on the walk home, while I'm laying in bed at night, praying for sleep to come...in my dreams.
Don't tell me I don't have God. I do. I know who He is. And, He has never forsaken me. He made me who I am. He knows that I'm a stubborn little girl who refuses to listen.
They say no parent should outlive a child. But, no child should ever have to let go of a parent, the way I was forced to with you.
You'd be much better off here than me.
Please forgive me for not being better.
I love you, and I crave your presence, guidance and solace. Please know that I don't create this pain - it follows me and burdens me, every chance it gets. I'm trying so hard to fight, but it seems this world only has so much to offer. The rest is a sickening chasm, destined to be filled by the unknown.
Mama, please don't forget me. Since you've been gone (2,920 days), there's never been a single day that I've forgotten you.
Please send help...