NUMBERS

Our life is full of numbers, our birth date, the birthdays that follow, school days, wedding day, then anniversaries or divorce dates, children’ birthdays, graduations, marriages, grandchildren, and all the numbered days in between, even our days on earth are numbered.
Today marks two years, ten months and ten days since my daughters death, February 19, 2011. I don’t know whether to count from that day as the day my heart broke or if it is broken further everyday since that horrid phone call, or is it the day my sanity was lost.
Today Dec. 29, 2013 I am so freaking angry, sad and lonely. I want to curse and drink and act out to relieve the anger, the anger at losing Klysta, anger that my life changed so dramatically that day. Nothing and I mean nothing in my life has been right since.
I am tumbling, spiraling into depression again and fighting as hard as I can to stay above the darkness. Sleep is not forthcoming until I am so exhausted my body rebels against my mind and collapses exhausted. 
I am so angry I take it out on others and don’t even realize it most of the time, and saying it is “just me” doesn’t work it is a cop -out, a lame excuse for causing others hurt because I am hurt and angry. At this point I don’t ‘feel’ I only lash out I am unable to see others hurt and grief as mine blinds me to the signs of theirs. I don’t like me anymore.
I want to crawl into the bed cover my head and never face the world again…I want to die but something holds me back from doing anything about it. My days are numbered by another I am told anyway.
Speaking of the Great omnipotent one, “God” he has sure let me down, prayers have gotten me no where in release of the pain. Reaching out to him has made me even angrier at him for taking my daughter and leaving my family in shambles, I don’t believe for one minute in all things are his purpose and plan…what purpose could he have to cause this much heartache and chaos in my mind that I would really like to have an answer to.
I keep the television on twenty hours of the day so the noise keeps me from thinking, even as I write this it is on, I go to facebook and play games giving cyber friends my quick answers or opinions to keep from crying more than I have already each day. I try to read but find I cannot still my mind long enough to understand so I read and then reread finally closing the book and setting it aside, to collect dust where it lies. Unable to concentrate has affected my writing I have chapters of novels that I will never complete; the passion for such has left me. What is the point? I will never have a finished product to attain a publish date.
I no longer listen to music, it either stirs up the crying or grates my nerves. I go nowhere for pleasure as my health keeps me pretty much house bound if I do go out I am hurting physically so bad by the time I am finished it takes days to recuperate. I eat all the time to quiet the scream rising in my throat, if I ever let it out it will drive me mad and into an asylum.Maybe I should be there anyway.
 I am muddling through the days, waking everyday with an ‘oh no’ knowing I have to face another day. The bit of sunshine in my life is my middle daughter and one grandson that still come around, my only hope is that someday I will again see my youngest daughter and grandson. My husband is lost and grieving and angry and no longer the man I once knew as I am no longer the woman I used to be. I miss me, us, my family, most of all I miss my daughter Klysta. I know life as I once knew it to be will never be again as someone said our normal is no longer normal when you lose a child…I know mine isn’t and never will be. I am just so freaking mad at the days, the number of days I must continue to live in this pain. 

 

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