I a couple of hours, it will be two months to the minute since my sister died. I feel like I've aged a thousand years. In some ways, I feel like I don't have long left myself. I think sometimes that this loss is what will kill me. I can be so together for my family when they need support, oh my, the wisdom that spouts from my mouth, and I can actually calm them. Perhaps this is the only purpose left in my life. Then I am alone with my own thoughts, and the tears begin to drown me. I've never hated life the way I do now.
I wrote this to to her blow off some steam a couple days ago, but the steam has built up again. My life has become a sad song, and the only person I could have turned to with the deepest, darkest feelings I've known, is the person who caused them. My only sister.
It's not all hearts and flowers you know Kathy. You killed me too. I can't see how to survive this loss for much longer. I'm dying, I'm fu**ing dying and i don't know how to stop, but I don't know how to go on.
Pictures and memories. That's all you left. All fading so soon. Wounded relatives, wounded friends, and sad thoughts about the tragedy that became of your life. Heart wrenching sobs abound among those who loved you so much, each of whom were bequeathed a portion of your own misery as a bitter souvenir of your life, added to the devastating loss that we were each given...your final gift.
These days, the ones you told me would pass in time when you were trying to convince me that your ideas of suicide were acceptable, have planted deep roots already, and seem intent on staying for good. Not one of our lives will go on as planned. Not one day will pass where even for a moment will we be free of your legacy to us.
I was never a big crier Kath, but now I cry like I never imagined I could. I cry until I can't remember how to breathe sometimes, and in those moments I am caught between gasps and suddenly cannot remember how to breathe, not even whether I should try to inhale or exhale, and i am suspended in a breathless place for moments, terrified that I will die between the sobs that begin at my feet and work their way into my very soul, and I make panicked, confused attempts at breath, terrified that I will die between sobs and gasps for air. Afraid that in the most frightening of those moments, I will suffocate on my own grief, and that you will have killed me too.
You see Kath, I didn't want to die, maybe you did, but I didn't, and yet, I can barely remember what it was like to live. I look at my life now, but I can't remember it being good anymore. Good was so long ago. Now I see a different life, a new life, a final parting gift from you. What is my new life? It's waking up each day only to remember why I wanted to stay asleep. It's being isolated by friends who can't bear to talk about what you did to us. It's a daily vicious cycle of pain to the core of the heart, it's bursting into dangerous tears and wondering if you'll stop breathing for good this time. It's not caring if you do. It's devaluating every damned thing you' do, every damned thing you own, and every damned person, place or thing in your life because nothing can be enjoyed alongside the loss of a sister that didn't think that your love was enough, that any smile, laugh, tear, outing, adventure, or event was enough to stick around for. Here I am, alone in my shattered heart wishing I could just sleep to escape the constant torture of my soul. What is there left to do anyway? Too much of me died with you, and now I am dead too, walking dead, and wondering if I will ever get to live the last years of my life with a moment's peace. You made this decision for my life, not me. You decided that I, and your brothers, nephews, your aunts and cousins, your son and grandson, and all of your friends should get to divide up your pain and live it out for ourselves, while you bail out and get to live in peace in another plane far from us. Every single one who loved you is doomed to carry the burden of your earthly woes for life, while you get to dance in the light. I wish you had climbed out of your own head and taken the time to love us enough to stick it out. Every soul you left behind would have stepped up to help you if you'd been honest with us and loved us enough to give us a chance.
Today I think these thoughts through rivers of tears, and i realize that I am angry with you for the cruel and thoughtless way that you decided the rest of my life. And still through my anger and tears, I pray that you are safe, well, and happy. I've loved and cherished you for good and bad, throughout your life, and beyond. I always did, and i always will. I hope you can find a prayer that will help me, and every other life you hurt, that will help us to find a way to live in something better than what you left us with.