You'll Never...

“You’ll Never Walk Alone”

When you walk through a storm
Hold your head up high
And don't be afraid of the dark.
At the end of a storm is a golden sky
And the sweet silver song of a lark.
Walk on through the wind,
Walk on through the rain,
Tho' your dreams be tossed and blown.
Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart
And you'll never walk alone,
You'll never walk alone.

Dear Hearts

I wish I could see the gold sky. I have lost total Faith in it yet. I can’t because there really would be no reason…

CD won today.

I only have 10 minutes before we have an early dinner, but at least it’s here, Mom is cooking, and I didn’t have to leave the house all day.

I got in trouble last night for my blog.

And, if CD is a real thing. A real physical disease that disables people, like Parkinson’s, MS, cancer—why don’t we have hear talk about a cure?

First, CD won. I was up until after 1 a.m. and I slept until 10.30. Mom was at Bible Study, but I  knew she was coming home so I didn’t get up to check on G-Pa. I could hear that everything seemed okay from the bedroom.

Mom’s being here has allowed me to hand over the care and worry of G-Pa to her. And, her being here allowed me to go back to bed. I ate around 2-ish. I was so tired. I thought about making myself draw, but I couldn’t. I made myself make a few phone calls while Mom was at the grocery (Hallelujah! I didn’t have to go to the grocery.)

I should go out and make nice with Aunt Faerie and Bugsy even though I’d rather just sit here on my bed alone.

Shit.

I’m back and I just sat at dinner having an episode. I’ll eat later—at a civilized time like 8, not 5.30.

I feel so miserable. Like I want to take a take something sharp and just cut myself—because then maybe the pain would have somewhere to go. No. Mom, Aunt Faerie, and Martha, I will not cut myself or hurt myself. But I want to.

People want all kinds of things. People want to quit their jobs, but they don’t. Ex-Smokers want to smoke but they don’t. People want to go tell others to go fuck themselves, but they don’t. So wanting to and doing are two different things.

Now that Mom is here I feel like I have inwardly collapsed. Like I was holding “it together,” because I had to, but now I don’t HAVE to. Would I have fallen, even if Mom didn’t come out? I don’t fucking know. I am so sick and fucking tired of writing about this shit and myself and focusing on me and my problems.

CD won today and I feel guilty about it. I feel guilty for wasting the day. I just want to scream and never stop. I’d like to stop shaking.

Maybe I really am crazy…but crazy people don’t question their sanity.

Where is the golden sky?

I guess CD didn’t totally win today or I would have killed myself.

Mom was angry with me about last night’s blog. She was pissed that I said I’d wish I’d never been born. That she and Dad were so overwhelmed with joy to have me and they love me unconditionally. I loved Asshole unconditionally until I was in physical and psychological danger. At what point to my parents and family just throw in the towel and give up?

I am alive. I have not killed myself. Fuck the Nuclear Option—let’s just be Trump-Direct here. I have not killed myself because I know the damage I would cause Mom and Dad, Aunt Faerie, Gaia, and G-Pa.

This episode/panic attack is pretty bad.

“Have you ever seen the aftermath of a suicide?...I have…I was meeting two associates in Tel Aviv. As my car was pulling up a 20 year old Palestinian entered the restaurant and detonated a vest wired with C4…it blew out my ear drums. I couldn’t hear. The smoke it was like being under water. I went inside—a nightmare—parts of people. You could tell where he was standing when the vest blew. It was like a perfect circle of death. There was almost nothing left of the people closest to him. 17 dead, 46 injured, blown to pieces. The closer they were to the bomber the more horrific the effect. That’s every suicide. Every single one. An act of terror perpetrated again everyone who has ever known you, everyone who has ever loved you. The people closest to you, the ones who cherish you are the ones who suffer the most pain, the most damage. Why would you do that? Why would you do that to people who love you?”

“I had no choice.”

“There is always a choice.”

“Is there?”        The Black List, Reddington.

I guess I figured that if I had never been born, then would be no damage done. I wouldn’t exist and I wouldn’t cause pain, worry, and angst to those who are stupid enough to love me.

Right now at this minute, I am looking at Lavender Luxe Barbie from across the room. I do not see a point in going on with life. I just don’t see another side or a golden sky.

Why am I so broken?

Smoke ‘em if ya’ got ‘em. God Bless

In the name of The Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; Mother Mary, Saint Brigid; Saint Jude; Saint Therese Lisieux; Saint Peter; Archangel Michael, and my Guardian Angel, Jed.

PS: The trajectory of my blog just came about—I didn’t plan it this way tonight.

You’ll never walk alone. Really?

PPS: Maybe it's like drawing...if I write about it...I won't do it. I promise I will not kill myself tonight...I'm sorry Mom, Aunt Faerie, Gaia.