I cant fix it

 

Here I am.  

full of hate and angst

I'm going to talk about things people don't want me to talk about  

I want to die

often

I know it's not ok...I know we aren't supposed to talk about it

it's for teens ....it's for crazy people ...it's for psychos

but....

I'm just a mom, struggling....53. 

struggling

I ache with pain from what my son has experienced and what I had to see that day....and the aftermath it has brought.  being a nurse, I have seen so much....but this hurt me...his love,  there on the floor...him outside in his underwear with no support ....nothing....her on the floor dead......

it hurt me

I couldn't fix it

I couldn't help myself by leaving and going to NY to help with Covid,

I divorced...

I hopefully saved him, but not me

I still couldn't feel like I did anything.   I really did nothing....

NY

I was just there...I did what I could....I did my job....but my heart still hurts

I couldn't fix it....

my daughter hurts....

I can't help her

I can't fix it

I can't fix myself

I go to work everyday and help fix others ..........

It's my job

but here I am, 

every night with no sleep

with thoughts of death....

with thoughts my children may kill their selves because of my poor parenting

I can't fix it

.......

m

If It Doesn't Make You Wiser.... Quarantine Days

I get lost...

not sure what holds things down

or back

in my head.

This beautifully sad movie was not the ideal thing for me to watch today,

alone...

maybe too close to home....

Maybe made me feel 

too much

and the hole opened again.

so many things I need to sit and think about,

to fix

to not be another disappointment 

Being strong is what is expected...

The mean mom, the tough one,

the bitch ex wife....

(almost)

As I continue to try to run away, to escape and to be strong...

reality keeps seeping in.

I go back to work in a week and I'm not sure I'm ready.

I definitely don't want to continue to sit around but I also am not sure I can keep my shit together.

I really do not want to cry ...

I don't want to talk about it because when I do I feel the need to only say the good stuff, 

because there was a lot of good stuff.

Keep the sad or morbid stuff quiet...

then I realized today,

the bucket I cram all that into is nearing the top, with no overflow.

I can't sleep

it's not all about my job etc...that really just allowed me to but a name ,or an excuse, on my feelings.

Now it's everything

every dark spot I had ,or have no control over, is there and it feels pretty vast.

I'll be fine

but I wonder what others do?

I was sent this article 

"I Can't Turn My Brain Off: PTSD and Burnout Threaten Medical Workers"

I sit here and think maybe taking time off is really not the best idea...

Maybe that is the exact idea as to why they often require us to work continuously

Then I was sent a link to 10-33 foundation for reintegration...

I put it a folder last week...

today I opened it and filled it out.

I should probably write more, because I sure as shit don't want to talk more

I just want to laugh...

I want to be done with this divorce ...

because I cannot understand it and that kills me too

I get angry when I see him still sitting on the couch doing the exact same thing....

when he stuffs all my belongings in the basement and has ripped up and thrown away every family picture....

just seems really hurtful, but yet again...I hurt him

I still pay the bills and mortgage...

I'm not sure I have ever been much of anything except a bill payer ....

I don't want to talk to family because they really don't need to know

and even if they did,

what can they do.

As silly as it sounds I want to just sit and listen to the birds

or do something I can complete and be proud of...

have someone rub my back while I fall asleep 

and make sure I do fall asleep...safely

I would like to sit and listen to music

and not cry...not feel that overwhelming burden.

I don't want to think about how much more I could do for the people in my life...

son, daughter, friends, lovers, family, and the people I promise to care for within my job...

There is nothing I can really do

except wait it out

figure it out

keep smiling...

and hoping I can be the person I am supposed to be.

xo,

write ya later,

m

here.....if it doesn't make you wiser...

Wiseblood

Zola Jesus

This'll be my last home

But this stream will carry me through

But this stream isn't home no more

And truth can make immune

If it doesn't make you wiser

Doesn't make you stronger

Doesn't make you live a little bit

What are you doing?

And this'll be my one remorse

But this stream's kept me abused

And this stream is a hungry course

And time can make it new

If it doesn't make you wiser

Doesn't make you stronger

Doesn't make you live a little bit

What are you doing?

If it doesn't make you wiser

Doesn't make you stronger

Doesn't make you live a little bit

What are you doing?

In these parting days, I am losing all my senses

In these timeless days, I can barely see through

In this crowded space, I am losing all my senses

In these drowned out bays, I can barely see through

If it doesn't make you wiser

Doesn't make you stronger

Doesn't make you live a little bit

What are you doing?

If it doesn't make you wiser

Doesn't make you stronger

Doesn't make you live a little bit

What are you doing?

If it doesn't make you wiser

Doesn't make you stronger

Doesn't make you live a little bit

What are you doing?

If it doesn't make you wiser

Doesn't make you stronger

Doesn't make you live a little bit

What are you doing?

365 days : day 167, today is the day...

day 167

I deleted all old texts and let it go.

Friendships come and go and like they say, 

you shouldn't fight for friendships or love.

Hard as it is, because I looked at these texts often when my heart was /is heavy to remind myself I am beautiful, smart, loving and that others can see that.

I also read them to remind myself that 

my issues weigh my soul down, yet I have the ability to change.

These talks and texts have taught me to move forward, instead of fear change 

In the last year I have learned a lot about myself and continue to move forward in my plans to better myself and life for me.

It will forever break my heart to not communicate with someone I took a chance and opened myself up to...but that is part of life. He knows where I am and how to let me know he is there if anything is needed.

I am thankful

So silly, but a spot is here....waiting, and if able, I would be right there....

for whatever

Clear a space I must....

strong girl....

write ya later,

and ps.

I love you very much and if you ever need anything... 

talk? laugh? bowling? car trip?

I'm here

may you find what makes you happy and safe

xoxo,

m

365 days: Mirrored Life and No More Public Sadness

2 weeks and my soul is still very heavy.

I went to bed yesterday at 6:40pm and woke at 8am....

Still tired, aged 1000 years and my list of shit I need to accomplish continues to grow.

I took this picture to remind myself I am still alive...

My son is still alive....

and my heart is still beating.

all the cocktails in the world will not help

my drug days are way over (thank you)...

Talking to people really doesn't help, because all it does is push people away in an awkward manner

and 

ignoring myself apparently will not help 

I have told myself this morning, as I drink my green smoothie, get ready for going down my list and accomplishing things such as brushing teeth, eating a solid food, going outside, laundry (because I stink), and try to exercise...

I tell myself that I am not going to be that friend people want to ignore after today.

My life is not that heavy and my problems should be mine and mine alone.

But I am going to share a one sided story.

Then I will say my thanks to the people I love.

I was Elliot.

I lived the life of bars, strip clubs...poor choices in men.

is it a gene? is it a lack of fatherly love?

who knows. 

Was I sexually abused by my dad?  NO

The neighbor boy up the street? Yes...

but I thought it was a game....

I have never been a victim.

even after being raped by a man I knew,

 who broke into my apartment while I was at work and waited for me.

my fault...

play the game and recover...

These people in my life were poor decisions and I set myself up for bad shit to happen.

I was young.

I was headstrong

and I didn't care for myself a whole hell of a lot.

I worked precarious jobs, but was always smart enough to not get too involved.

I worked with questionable people,

but again....

stayed solo in my life...

hopping from situation to situation with close friends often not even knowing where or what I was doing.

did I do drugs?  yes.  

with the promise I would never shoot-up...

I never did...

but, you can get the same effect smoking or snorting.

Waking up in people's house and not knowing where you are...

wrong side of town...

outside in a yard...

with blood pouring from a knife slice from someone I trusted...

 and a scar not even a tattoo can cover

funny stories, now....kind of...

Somehow I avoided death and the addictive gene.

I begged my soul for help to be stronger, and to not want so much...

I wrote letters to myself...

reminders...

you got this

all by your self....

you got this.

I knew (know) I was (am) a broken person.

wanting to be loved more than anyone can actually give.

I finally left that town...Atlanta.

I escaped... 

moved to the mountains in Colorado

I got a day job

I milked goats.

Someone who did not know a thing about me gave me chance waiting tables in a breakfast place.

I didn't have access to drugs...

I didn't have access to friends...

I was horrifying lonely...

sad...

really sad

I lapsed a few times with poor decisions...

but I made it.

here I am....

and maybe that is why I am so saddened for the death of Elliot.

Because I saw her resume sitting on the table that morning when the police asked me to go in and look around. 

She was trying.

She constructed an entire resume outlining her strengths and work ethic.

To go from nightlife

to the safety of day life.

but she did not make it

stuck in the night.

That is my short version of my story.

Many parts of my life are very secret.

laughable and haunting.

here I am at 50.

looking into a time machine of a young girl who was living my life and many other's

poor choices...

heartbreakingly lonely

and a young man who couldn't fix or love her enough

Elliot/Ashton

photo by : Ilin Blue

this is my last day of horrible public sadness.

It does no one any good....

I am thankful for the few friends who  have come to me....

 even though I say to stay away...

I'm good.

so thankful.

My dreams and thoughts still take me to the comfort of that certain someone else...

 multiple times a day

comfort, safety, and warmth...

and quiet...

wanting to escape to the safety of strong arms...

💙

last day...

My kids need me

Her mom needs me

I think I need myself

write ya later

xo,

m

Sober October day 9

As you know, I like my cocktails, well beer especially, but October has rolled around and I was reminded by my far far away friends that I have been known to participate in things such as Sober October and Lent (yes , I said Lent).

Thanks, God....

It is day 9 and I have to admit one thing...I sleep better. With that said let me tell you a few of the things which are not working out:

1. I went out the other night and I had to become the UBER drive, because I wasn't drinking.  At one point I was toting drunkards around and I decided to make an illegal turn. Someone in the backseat said, "hey, you can't do that"....my response, "Fuck it...Pull my ass over....they can give me a ticket. I am so sober it's frightening."  Then from the backseat, "yeah....it is frightening, 

This will probably never happen again."   

Nice support guys.

( this is what my backseat looked like)

2. I was told I am no fun when sober....    another thanks for the support...

3. I feel like I have nothing to do.  I never realized how much I enjoy having a beer and or a vodka drink at night while relaxing.  Now, as a fellow SoberOctober friend announced, "I have drunk more tea than Kermit the Frog". bingo, brother, bingo....and that lousy bubble water with flavors that taste like plastic fruit.

besides all of that I have discovered a few things that now that I am done with the depression of not having a beer, I am going to cash in on....and I think I will continue for the rest of the month to blog on it.  I have been feeling pretty good about blogging and if you do read this feel free and let me know because as of now I feel pretty open knowing no-one really gives a shit or reads this crap.

So, point at hand,

1. I have found time to read.

2. I am knitting and sewing again which you can see on my IG

3. I have plenty of time to think and try to make my apologies to all the people I have been weird to. Although when one attempts to reconnect on a nonweird platform it just appears the one is fucking crazy, so I just do my best and hope I can re-establish the love I once had for people and them me.

4. Run

This is the big one.  I have made a commitment to myself, starting today (in 38 degrees) to try to run again.  I am shooting for a half marathon in Bryce Canyon.  Running is something I do alone.  I have yet to find anyone who I can or want to run with, comfortably ( if you are out there contact me). So, this I will continue to talk about.

5. Russel Brand requested I start to meditate every day to clear my head and become my old self.

I am on top of this, I would rather be on top of him...but we will start with meditation.

Thanks Russ...

6. Depressed M is going bye bye.  My life is mine.  There is a path here somewhere and I am going to find that bitch.

write ya later,

m

Senator Kennedy...I'll miss you and your 60 seats

I can barely listen to the news. We lost an amazing Bi-partisan seat this week. A seat Senator Kennedy held nobly for many years. It makes me sad to think about how all change will now come to a screeching halt. Independants should think about this. Maybe the changes which are coming are not perfect...but change is a START. things have got to start moving in a different direction. Anyone who has ever started a new system in their lives knows...it's never perfect to start, yet you go ahead, draw up a semi plan, set it into action and hammer out the kinks as everyone starts to use it....
New Orleans...and this headline read "Troops ordered "Shoot to Kill"
haven't heard about shooting people in Haiti.

Haiti...waiting for help...

Haiti...oh my god, it's sad...but do you remember what happened in New Orleans?, hell that was right in our own basement and we couldn't get there quick enough to help. It appears to me that Haiti is getting help quickly and alot of it. It is going to be a long hard road...but we can refer to New Orleans as one step below Haiti. We couldn't or wouldn't even help our own peeps. Heck, a couple of towns even shut down the bridges into the drier areas.
So, Haiti...we got your backs. We are getting there...and quickly...be thankful you weren't stuck in the "Dome" with raping,pillage, and death...and no way out.



I temporarily felt bad for Conan Obrien...but have now changed my mind...with the severance package of 33 million he could rebuild the entire Haitian area alone. So suck it up...and shut up...

I'm turning 41 this weekend. My ass thinks it is 65.

Dog Park Disaster and a Fault in Human Nature

Yesterday afternoon I headed over to the dog-park to let Eddie run wild with the natives; ie...other stupid dogs. It was a beautiful day here in sunny Colorado. Perked up to 50 degrees, which is downright balmy. If you have ever experienced frigid weather you may know that snow which warms,melts, then promptly refreezes every evening to make a beautiful glazy surface. With that bit of info...I was standing at the dogpark happily looking at the Continental Divide, glancing over every few minutes to see Eddie trying to hump some other dog...daydreaming about vacation at the beach when ....

WHAM BAM Thank YOU MAM!!!!

I was thrown tail over keister, I awoke looking at the pretty blue sky...only remembering horrible popping noises and not really knowing what was happening. I laid there until Eddie was drooling over me. Then I slowly pushed myself up, just to see the guy with the little black dog, who had plowed me over, walking out the gate.

Hello, I was just knocked out by your dog?!!!!

He left.

He didn't even help me up...or see if I was alive for that matter. There was no one else there. I could have been dead! But., alas, I wasn't. I cried all the way home, gasping for breath, surely more upset about the fault in his human nature than the damage to my ribs. I went to the doctor who told me exactly what I all ready knew. Nothing punctured, just bruised...physically and emotionally.

Take it easy...here's some Vicodan...no running until your body heals.

He didn't even check to see if I was alive.

sad