Broken Glass 02/28/2010
 
Today has been a mix of good and bad, up and down, relief and anxiety. All these feelings, overflowing like a boiling pot of pasta. Which, by the way, I had for dinner.

I slept well last night, for a change, but still couldn't remember my dreams. Just little bits and pieces of barely grasped memories, ones that make absolutely no sense. I so want to dream about her, I want to communicate with her in my dreams.

My stepbrother came today and brought me a movie, Perfect Stranger. It's not like the cheesy lighthearted feel good flicks I usually watch nowadays, but it's okay. In the evening when it's quiet and dark outside, I like to put in any movie that will help take my mind off stuff.

I just this second realized that I'm due to take my 'help me make it through my life' meds. Off I go, to get the required bowl of ice cream and the pretty little pills. I can't swallow pills, have I mentioned that? I have to go through this whole routine of crushing them, or opening them, and pouring them into ice cream. Nothing else takes the taste away like ice cream. Plus, I do like to eat that ice cream, and all the other sweets, as if that might help fill up that hole inside me.

It never does, but it tastes good going down.

This weekend the weather is supposed to be gorgeous. In the 60s. That'll be a heatwave, compared with what we've been hit with this Winter. I do look forward to that. Everything seems better in the sun.

I found a wonderful woman online who has also lost someone, and her words of understanding and hope just light up my heart. That is my Good Thing for today.

Off to get that ice cream.
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This is the ecstatic face of our dog when she was wrapped in my daughter's arms. Hilarious!
 
 
Just like with the anger, I seem to have no control over my tear ducts either. Sometimes when it happens, it's okay; I'm alone. At other times, I try to hide it, or run to the bathroom, or hide behind the clothes in a department store.

It's immediate and surprising, almost always. Sometimes it just waits for a visitor to leave my house and as soon as that door closes, wham, I'm hit with a big crying jag. Or someone says something kind, something sympathetic, and there I go.

If anyone reads this and has had an NDE or knows someone who has, please tell me your experience. I'd love to hear it.

Today my thoughts are disjointed. On the TV guide channel I keep seeing on Nickelodeon all the shows she loved. Spongebob and Dora and The Upside Down Show, and then on TV Land, All In The Family and Family Matters-was that girl ever crazy about Steve Urkel-Three's Company...In the mornings I see Barney pass by and remember her throwing her little arms around in wild abandon as she danced to The Wheels On The Bus and If You're Happy And You Know It and all those other Barney songs. I never disliked Barney, simply because she loved him. Always, always at the end of the show when he sang the I Love You song, she would pull me close and hold me until the song was over.

She couldn't walk, but she danced just the same. She danced with perfection by using her arms. When we watched ice skating she skated along by moving her arms. She couldn't really talk, so I never knew if she wanted to ask why she couldn't walk or dance like other kids.

She was a beautiful, wonderful, perfect child. I was so lucky to be her mom. I just wish I could have kept her forever.
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Lately I've been really angry. Furious, really, and at the drop of a hat.

Like when someone who knows me asks, what's wrong? Is something wrong?

I want to scream at them, yes, of course something's wrong! My daughter died! My heart was ripped out and stomped on and every single breath I take hurts. Every single thought I have is of her. Every single moment I live is filled with despair. I want my baby. I want my baby! And I am so mad.

But that was over two months ago. Some people think I should be moving on with my life, and what, faking happiness? I understand, I do. I know people just don't want to see another person hurting. They don't want to have to think that I'm in such pain. But I am.

It's only been two months. Two months, which seems unbelievable to me. Have I only been feeling this way for two months? Hasn't this pain been going on for years?? Two months, really?
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 It's snowing again. Ask me if I'm surprised. That would be a big fat nope.

 I went to do a little shopping, nothing major. My mom wanted me to pick her up a few cases of water, and I also bought some nail polish, emery boards, pop tarts, bread, diet coke, chips (Munchos, pretzels, and cheddar fries), a clear glass vase, and a bunch of cut daisies. I put them in water as soon as I got home and here they sit, cheering up the room.

 Before I dropped my mom's water off and got home, there was about an inch of snow. Now there's around three. Tomorrow, my stepbrother wants to take me to 2nd Street to get "the best footers in the world" because he found out that though I've lived here my entire life, I've never tried them. But if we get much more snow, I don't think I'll be traipsing out to get a hot dog.

If I do, I'll take my camera. Maybe I'll find something interesting to take a picture of ;)
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2 AM 02/26/2010
 
Sometimes when I start to write in this blog I'll think to myself, keep it easy today. No one likes to read about constant pain. But...if anyone starts reading this blog it'll probably be because they are also grieving. And if they are, they're going to completely understand. And if writing about my pain helps me out a little, why do I care that someone gets upset that I'm talking about heavy stuff? I guess I'm just weird that way.

My heart is broken. Mostly it feels like it'll never be patched back together. So yes, I'm going to write about pain. I'll write about pain and some days I'll write about what an okay day I've had or what I've been doing to try to forget the pain for a little while.

But she was such a special little thing. Missing her, needing her, that's not ever going to go away, is it? Not until I die and am once again with her. I need to focus on that. She's waiting for me. She's happier than she's ever been.
 
 
I'm sitting here with Word open, thinking about writing. I have a bag of Chick-O-Sticks and a bag of Bit-O-Honey candy, and I'm working my way through the bags. It's a hard day, and on these days I seek the relatively small comfort of food. Sweet foods, because that's my comfort. Better than a big old plate of meatloaf or a pizza. I need my sweets.

The Bit-O-Honey's are making my jaw crack with the effort of chewing them. My desk is littered with candy wrappers, and Saving Grace is in the DVD player. Earlier I looked at pictures of my little angel and then read for hours over the news items about the murders of my family members.

It came down to pneumonia, for my daughter. Have I told you that? She had pneumonia, an infection that she could not fight, and blood clots on her brain. Her little body couldn't fight.

God, how I miss that girl.

This is good, to write about it, because I don't want to talk about it to people, not anymore. I feel like they're wanting me to get on with life, to just get better. And I can't. I pretend to, though, for most of them. It's better that way.

Sometimes I just get so tired, so exhausted. I'm eager to go be with her, to be out of this hard, hard life. The couple of people I've mentioned that to look at me funny, like I'm going to go jump off a building or something. I'm not. I'd be too afraid that suicides might have to learn more life lessons, might not be able to go where we go when we leave this world. And I have to go be with her when it's my time to go. She needs me. I need her.

Besides, there are other people here to think about. Most importantly, my son. But that doesn't keep me from longing, or thinking that from now to then will probably be a long, long time.

For his sake, I hope so. For mine, not so much.
 
Dark Places 02/24/2010
 
Why is it that some days I'm feeling okay, and then the next I'm missing my little girl so much that I can barely function? This is one of those days. It all happened so fast and she's no longer here. That kills me. I miss her so much. I want to be with her.
 
 
The trial was delayed. They can't seem to find an impartial jury. No doubt. This is not a huge county...

Today I am going to do some more plotting on the new book. After I eat my breakfast and drink my coffee, that is.
 
 
My son brought me a morning cup of coffee and a glazed doughnut for breakfast. Not only was it tasty, but he is such a sweet and caring person. I'm lucky to be his mom.
 
 
The trial starts tomorrow morning. It should last around three weeks. I'll go on some of those days, but not all. It's too much.

I have started a new book, finally. I even have a title. When I'm writing a book with no title, I can't truly be happy with it until I have that title in place. Hey. We all have our little quirks, right? In the grand scheme of things, mine is harmless, if a bit on the OCD side.

It rained all day today, and if one can go by the weather report, it will rain all day tomorrow, as well. Then, more snow for the remainder of the week. At least we did have those warm couple of days to see us through until Spring arrives for real. She's a stubborn so and so.

I had to put another coat of paint on the wall because it was still streaky looking. But at last, it's really finished. Tomorrow I will keep myself busy putting the living room back together.

My stepbrother will keep me informed of the days proceedings in court. I wish it was over.