I Can Feel It

The black cloud. It's greyish right now and hanging over me, but I don't think it's going anywhere, no matter how hard I try.

I'm so down and depressed lately. Nothing is going right. After the last posts, I had yet another bad thing happen. Our old girl, Shakes, died. She was 19 years old and it was so sad, but she was ready to go. Yet another thing to add to my list of horrible things that have happened this year.

A good thing (well two) has come out of it. Our new fur babies, Kobe and Pumpkin. They are amazingly sweet rescue cats and I love them very much. They bring me happiness.

But not much else does. It's affecting my work now. Boss is all worried about me, blah blah blah. I'm snapping at everyone there - of course, they are all idiots, but you know. It's seriously hard to run a restaurant when you hate people and when all you want to do is crawl into a ball and sleep forever.

No one understands, except David, but unfortunately, he's been feeling down, so he can't help. I can't help him. (sarcasm) It's great (/sarcasm)

I need my vacation, but I have to wait 2 months for that. I just want this all to go away.

15 Years Later...

Today is the anniversary of the Oklahoma City Bombing. I don't want to do the whole "I will never forget where I was" - no one cares where I was. Watching the clips again, it's still very shocking. I was only a young adult, with no children - I was only just about to get into my relationship with David, so I didn't know the profound loss that many of these parents suffered. I still don't know it, thankfully, but I can imagine it and it breaks my heart.

But, I want to talk about an angle of this story that no one ever talks about.

The man who did this was not a monster. He was not crazy. He lacked empathy, he lacked many 'normal' facets of his psyche, which allowed him to be easily influenced. He was, pretty much, a 'regular guy.' Except that he was not really capable of love. He has said in his own words that he didn't feel like he loved his parents. But, I'm sure that they loved him very much.

What I want to talk about is his family. My heart hurts watching all of these clips because I wonder, did anyone comfort his parents? His sisters? Was anyone there for them? What they must feel...it's just unfathomable.

I saw some footage of people cheering upon the completion of his execution. Cheering and being happy that a person died. Again, I never have never understood that mindset, but all I think about when I see that are his parents and his loved ones. There were people who loved him and they shouldn't be criticized or hated for that.

I wonder how the family is doing. I think about the Columbine killers' parents from time to time as well and how vilified they were in the press, how hated they were for something that they did not do. I wonder if Timothy McVeigh's parents were treated the same way.

So today, on the anniversary of the loss of 168 lives, I will also remember the loss of the 169th life and not mourn his passing nor be sad he is dead, but I will feel sadness for his family and their loss because today marks the beginning of their hell, as well.

And I think people forget to remember them...

Thanks for nothing...

Whomever I was pleading to was obviously, not listening...

It has been a week since my friend, Marty, died. Marty is the first of my childhood friends to die (as an adult). It was shocking, beyond measure and I'm still not really letting it all sink in. So, I want to talk about Marty.

I first met Marty when I was 10 years old. I joined an acting group and he was one of the 'techies' who helped run the shows. He was 7 years older than me, but he might as well have been 40 in my childish head. I saw him on my first day and thought he looked scary. He was a BIG guy and the first time I saw him, he was not smiling and was looking quite serious. I decided to avoid him.

Through the years there, I learned that Marty was quite the opposite of scary. He had a booming laugh, he was kind and gentle with all the kids (including the baby of one of the other staff members - someone shared a great story at his funeral of him, giant, hulking Marty, holding little baby Bryan and carrying him around, looking completely content). Marty gave the best hugs.

We lost touch over the years, but a few years ago, someone got a yahoo group together for the theater and we set up a huge reunion at a farm a few summers ago. I took Zack with me and he had the same reaction to Marty when he first saw him - mouth-opened awe of the giant black man who came running towards his mommy :) Marty scooped up my then over 200 lb ass and gave me a giant hug. He then bent down, eye to eye with Zack, to introduce himself. Zack gave him a high five and ran off to play with the other kids.

Marty and I stood around for a few minutes, catching up. He looked exactly the same. 40 something years old and he looked the same as he did when we were kids. He hadn't gotten married or had kids, but he was soon to reunite with another cast member, who would end up being the love of his life. I still smile when I think about them together.

The last few years, we saw each other a couples times a year at get togethers. I could always count on Marty to be there and give me a great hug. He made my friend Kara so happy and they soon became engaged. The group moved to Facebook and we all spoke quite a bit on there.

A few weeks ago, Marty had the flu. No big deal. A few status messages here and there - then Kara posting that she was going to go ahead and take him to the ER. They didn't have health insurance, so I knew he had to be pretty sick for them to do that. But, no alarms went off - figured he had the flu, or pneumonia or something.

Within 24 hours, he was being taken into surgery and then...he was in a coma. What? How was this happening?

It was not until the very end of his life that I found out exactly what had happened. Apparently, he had developed a strep infection and it had spread through his body. He had two separate surgeries to remove infections on his leg. But the damage was already done and his heart stopped during the 2nd surgery. He was on life support for over a week. His brain was swollen, his kidneys weren't working.

Some of our friends went up to see him (and to help take care of Kara, who was devastated, but still had hope). Then, the more serious updates. EEGs were coming back showing low brain activity. Friday, April 2nd the last one came back as him having "very little" brain activity and we knew this was it.

Thankfully, I was able to switch my shift on Saturday the 3rd and my friend Lisa drove us up to PA to see Marty.

I was not prepared for seeing someone on life support. It is not as they show in the movies and tv, as cheesy as that sounds, but it's not. It was very loud. He would cough. His eyes opened and he looked around. I thought "well, then he's obviously not dead" but it was simply a reflex. A very disturbing reflex, but a reflect none the less.

We sat with Marty and Kara. We talked to him and hugged him. But he didn't hug back. It was awful. I hugged him so tightly, I made him cough. I felt bad, but it made Kara laugh, so I stopped feeling bad about it. I wish we could have stayed with him longer, but I had to go to work.

They turned off the machines shortly after we left and he died 12 hours later.

This giant, hulk of a man...gentle teddy bear at heart...a man so full of life...now he's dead and I still can't wrap my brain around it. I wanted to go to his wedding. I wanted to convince Kara and they should have a baby together (she has 2 daughters already). David said later that Marty was one of those people that he wished he could have gotten to know better. I wish that, too, honey. They have the same seriously warped sense of humor and would have gotten along great.

The funeral was Saturday. It was awful, even though there were lots of shared stories and laughing, it was the finality of it that really got to me. There he was, in a casket. He really is dead. It's not a dream, or a joke. I saw so many of my friends crying that day, openly sobbing for the loss of their friend. It breaks my heart to think about it.

This is something that we all have to go through, unfortunately - the loss of a friend. I just thought it wouldn't happen until we were all a lot older.

So rest in peace, dear Marty. There are so many people here who love you and miss you. We will always remember you.

Well...

It's been almost a year since I wrote anything. I don't know if anyone even reads this - I don't much care either way. Just writing for myself.

So much has happened this past year. I'm honestly just a tired soul at this point. So much bad keeps happening. So much. But, it's always tempered and balanced by all the good. There is a lot of good in my life. Sometimes, I forget it. So, every day, I try to remember the good. Some days, it's very difficult. Some days, like today, it's easy as pie.

Of course, I'm sitting on my friend's couch in California, the last of a 4 day vacation to Napa and the surrounding areas, so it's very easy to be relaxed and happy right now. It's been blissful. No one to deal with but myself - I can do what I want, when I want. I've been a little lonely, but I'm a social person, so I've found people to talk to at the wineries and restaurants and such, so I'm not suffering haha.

I want a few months of nothing eventful happening. I'm tired, down to my core, of the bad things. And here's the thing - this last year - these bad things haven't been just bad, they have been life-altering awful. Two of them in 6 months. That's just not fair, by any standard of fairness.

I hear a lot "If anyone can handle this it's you (or you guys, meaning me and Dave)." That's a nice sentiment, I'm not going to lie, but for once, just once, I'd like for someone else to have to deal with it. What if I break down and completely lose my mind, will I then get a break and not have to "handle it" anymore? Probably not, but a girl can dream.

My life does not suck by any means. My life is not horrible. It's actually wonderful, fulfilling, interesting, and fun. But, it's all these good things, with this cloud of awfulness all the time. Or what feels like all the time. I'm very thankful that we are able to afford things like this trip for me to get away. I can't even imagine what I would do if I couldn't get a mental health vacation. I hope that I can get Dave one soon, he definitely deserves it.

So, please. Whomever or whatever keeps piling this shit on me - you can stop. Really. I'm done. Don't need anything else on top of this or I'll break. That's my plea. Have a nice day.

Sometime I Wonder

I wonder if Alex is going to be a normal adult. I have always said "things will get better when puberty hits - he will mature" but puberty is nowhere in sight. There is not one shred or tiny sign that it's even on its way. He will be 13 in two weeks. He looks like he's 10. He acts like he's 7.

A lady at the restaurant tonight saw that he was reading Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy and was open-mouthed and all "you're reading THAT - oh my gosh!". I wanted to say "he's 13, lady, he's not 8" but Alex was so happy she was talking to him about it and David was so proud - "He's read the Lord of the Rings Trilogy, too, I couldn't even get through that," that I didn't say anything. But it's the truth. She never would have said that if he looked his age.

I tried having a serious conversation with him last night. I took him to dinner, just me and him. I wanted to know some more about his friends and what they were into. More specifically, in a roundabout way, I'm trying to find some sign that my kid likes girls. Or hell, boys. Likes anyone in that way ya know? Trying to have a normal conversation with Alex is an exercise in futility. I was given quick, one-word answers, with follow up questions that had nothing to do with the topic at hand. He'd start talking about Garfield, or movies, or video games. He won't talk about normal, regular topics. I couldn't even get out ANY of the questions I wanted ot ask before I completely gave up.

It's frustrating.

Then there's the fact that he acts like Zack's age when they are together. I can't leave my 7 year old in the hands of my 13 year old because my 13 year old will hit him when he thinks Zack's threatening him in some way (verbal or whatnot and not even his safety - perhaps tattle-taling or something). Or, he will be intentially cruel to Zack, who only wants to play with his big brother. Oh, I won't lie. Zack is NOT innocent - he's a 7 year old boy. He pushes Alex's buttons, that's for sure. But at 13, Alex should not react like he does and it's frustrating.

I would like nothing more than to send them both out to visit with their grandmother in Phoenix, but I can't. There is no way that I would inflict their constant bickering and fighting on anyone else. It's honestly like having twins who hate each other. There is no difference in their maturity level except, and I hate to say this, Zack is often times more mature than Alex.

Sometimes, I truely worry for my son's future. I just want him to be normal. I have a hard time accepting the fact that he's not, so now I grasp onto the hope that he will grow to be normal...

I suppose I should update

Dave's still here - no strike yet. This is great. I'm beginning to think that it may not happen. Dave grew a strike beard haha - he won't shave until he knows for sure he's not going.

I really need a vacation. I'm trying to work it out so we can go to Arizona for Xmas, but I don't known if that will happen or not. Either way, I need some time off before that. I'm getting seriously burned out right now. I need to stand up for myself and say "look, it's been over a year since I had a vacation - I'm supposed to get 2 weeks a year, I need to take some time off." And I don't mean trading shifts, I mean some days OFF.

Easiest day to get covered is my Wednesday opening shift - maybe I can get a few of those covered and have some 3 day off stretches. I'd like to take the boys to the beach. I'd also like to go to the place that I suggested my bosses go - Great Wolf Lodge. The boys would love it.

I'm off today and tomorrow and I don't even want to think about work - I'm going to try my best not to.

Hurry up, April...

March has sucked big, fat donkey balls.

April has GOT to be better, right?

Eh, probably not - gonna be probably one of my worst birthdays to date, but I can dream...

Of course, Dave will probably be sent to California in April, so perhaps April isn't going to be any better.

Blah.

Bring on, um, June??