untitled

Every day becomes a new struggle.

A new moment to try to sneak past.

Time moving along lifeless.

Emptiness has become all consuming.

I will never understand....

We never really know what is in store for us or the ones we love. We can never fully understand it either. My sister passed away 6 months ago and there hasn't been a moment that I have been able to accept or understand it.

I have been filled with a massive amount of anger. It has just been recently that I have been able to allow myself to see that is the what's going on in my head. I have kept myself on the go nonstop; really it's just life... But I didn't let myself have much down time for thoughts to process. When I come across those times, I would become so angry. So upset and furious with my mother. I completely stopped talking to her.

Yeah, I know that sounds harsh. Especially since I just lost my sister and a family should pull together and be there for one another.

I however, have grown further away from my family. Most people really. I have shut myself down. I have closed all doors.

This week, 14 years ago... I was on the count down to the birth of my first child. Treva and I were so close. She was my best friend. I lived in an apartment and didn't have my own washer and dryer. She picked me up and all the new clothes for my soon to be here, baby boy. We were going to spend the day together washing and drying all his new little things. Spend the day together, like we had done so many times before.

I didn't see her pain. Not then. I didn't see how hard it was for her to see her brother have his first child 6 months earlier and now her sister preparing for her first child, to arrive in just a few days. I didn't see her slipping and falling.... Getting worse and I did not see it.

Instead her and I grew apart. I didn't pick up on it. I didn't see her drinking more and pushing away the people close to her. We grew further and further apart. She divorced the one man who loved her every day of her life, the moment she entered his. I didn't understand it.

I saw her drinking and driving. I saw her only wanting booze and drugs. I tried to talk to her. Maybe once or twice. I tried to be sweet and kind. I tried to tough approach. I yelled at her. I screamed at her. I told her I hated who she was becoming. I didn't see she was already stuck in this cycle of personal Hell.

I scolded her for driving while drinking... while intoxicated. I told her that I would not be able to remain a part of her life if this was the road she chose. That I would not sit back and wait for the call to tell me she was dead or that she killed someone. Told her that she may hit my car, with her infant nephew and kill us both. I may as well just inserted an IV to fill her blood with alcohol, myself.

It was YEARS before I spoke to her again. From that point on we rarely saw each other. We barely spoke.
Before the received a phone call Nov. 1st of 2013... it was 3 days after being released from the hospital from surgery that I saw or spoke to her. April. 5 months.

5 months.

I was upset with her then. Why? because she was angry she had to be at my house. because she didn't want to sit there with me or my mom. I didn't get it. I didn't know why. Was she jealous I was getting attention? Was she carving a beer?

I would want to sit with me either. The sister who walked away from her when she needed her best friend the most. The sister who never talked her. The sister who never saw her. The sister who was a nasty terrible person to her.

I was told that Treva had congestive heart failure and was going to die that day, Nov. 1st. I didn't believe it. I thought she was pulling some stupid  attention stunt. I went to see her that night. We talked and laughed. She looked so old. She said she hoped that her being sick would bring her family back together. She made a joke "You're here, bubby was here... I guess I am dying". I told her she was full of it.

That was the last time I got to talk to my sister. I told her I loved her. She told me she loved me too. My daughter was in a tournament that weekend. I went to her games and was too tired to go to the hospital. She was fine.

I went to see her that Monday... Nov. 4th. She had no idea who I was. From that day forward I was there every day... She stayed the same for a few days. The nurses were a joke. Giving us some kind of hope. Nov 10th we were told her kidneys were done. Her liver was done. There was nothing to do. She didn't want machines to live for her. We had to take away the things keeping her alive.

The next 5 days are a blur. I barely slept or ate. I grew to hate my mother and younger sister more and more. Their behavior and actions kept me from seeing and feeling and dealing with what was really going on.

I was losing my sister.

I get caught off guard with a thought of Treva and cry a little, or even a lot. The last 13 years of her life I abandoned her. 13 years. REALLY?!?!

This week all I have done is have this overwhelming feeling that I can't get over. I've cried every night. I didn't realize that I had this many tears to shed. I want her here. I want her back.

I'm tired. I'm miserable. I'm lost. I want my sister.

18 days

There never is a warning. No sirens or timers to go off when it hits. One moment I am fine, nuzzling into bed, looking forward to sleep, hoping for no dreams. The next moment... My chest is ripping open, tears are streaming down my face and a million emotions flood in all at once. I realize in that moment, my sister is dead. Typing those words makes me sick. Thinking them causes great disgust. Saying out loud... I don't know if I have.

I have told people she is gone. I can't admit to myself that I had to let her go. Her death has created such an emptiness in me. I don't feel the same joys or desires as I did a month ago. I am perfectly aware that her passing was only a little over 2 weeks ago. I understand that everything is fresh and new. What I can't grasp is that it is real.

I saw her just a month ago; laughing, smiling and still hoping her family dysfunction could see past itself and come together. I remember the last words I said to my sister before she was no longer coherent were "I love you" and "If you need anything please call me". I hugged her goodbye that day, not realizing that the next time I would see her was while she lay mumbling nonsense and not having a clue who I was. While the nurses pretended nothing was wrong and the doctors were discussing the use of a feeding tube to make her stronger.

6 days. That's all. 6 days. I went back to that hospital 6 days later. Why 6? What was so important for me to not make it back there in six days... I don't know. Life. But guess what, it's still here. Those are 6 days I gave up being with her. My mind tries to console the rest of me body with logic. "You didn't know!" "She's been in and out of hospitals so many times; how was this supposed to be different?" It was.

She joked with me when she saw me... "Wow, Manda! I really must be dying... You're here!" I told her not to think that way, she'd be back home in no time. Boy, was I wrong.

The week after those 6 weeks was the most difficult week of my life. My 43 year old sister was dying and I was not leaving her side. Whether she knew I was there or not. It was Tuesday afternoon when the doctors called us in as a family to tell us that her liver has shut down... her kidneys were quickly following and her body was no long responding to any of the treatments they were trying. They had nothing left to do. She didn't want to be turned into a plugged in mummy. She didn't want to have to lay attached to machines to allow her to live. She knew it was her time to go when her body was done.

Those next few days felt like weeks, months even. I lived at the that hospital. I slept in a chair next to her bed holding her hand. I would crawl up next to her and hold her. Singing to her, talking to her, brushing her hair. I even painted her nails.

My sister had an addiction to alcohol. It had become her disease. Mix that with a bum liver from birth and she was never stood a chance. Her and I were the best of friends while I was growing up, with 10 years between us it's surprising we were as close as we were. Once she made her slip into alcohol and heavy drug use I couldn't stand to sit by and watch her die. I told her she had a choice: Me or her addiction. I lost. In fact, I lost big because she didn't have a choice. Something I didn't learn until a few years ago. She needed me to help her and I abandoned her. Left her with more of a reason to cling to the numb.

She was placed on morphine Tuesday afternoon, all antibiotics and the feeding tube were removed. We were placed in a room where we would have more privacy as a family; to watch as one of us died. Where I woke and slept (resting for a few hours here or there) for days; watching as my sister's breathing grew more and more labored. The only night I went home was Friday. I was so tired. I had barely eaten going on two weeks. I couldn't focus. George took me home to rest one night. What was one night compared to the week I had just spent. ME ME ME... Selfish ME! She died that night. I wasn't there.

The call came in... I saw her father's name flash on my phone and for a brief second I thought if I don't answer it won't be real. I knew what the call was. I knew why that phone rang. I rushed back to that horrible place where the shell of a once vibrant and beautiful woman now lay. I laid on that bed, wrapped around her arm, holding her hard... waiting to see her chest move with a breath. Waiting to hear her heart beat. It never came.

One week after her doctors gave us the "there's nothing left to do" speech we were holding her services. 18 days. 18 days after I first saw her laughing in the hospital. Joking with me. Exchanging I love yous! 18 days.

My sister has been gone since Nov 15th at 11:55 pm. Not a day goes by that I don't think of her. Not a day goes by I don't hate that she is gone.

I was once so filled with hopes and dreams... So many and too many to list. I was going to one day go to law school. I wanted to make my way up the political chain. I had hopes to one day help make a change in our ever faltering society.

When you are young you don't realize that there are many hiccups that can turn everything upside down...

My hiccup was finding out I was pregnant. I was so happy and excited and naturally terrified all at the same time. I was 19 when I  found out. I knew the type of mother I wanted to be... I also knew the type of attorney I one day dreamed to be.... I knew there was a choice to be made... Do I do both when before starting I knew I would fail? No, I made the decision to be the best mother I ever could be. I made the best decision in my entire life!! I regret nothing of it.

This time 12 years ago I was nearing my final days before motherhood.

12 years seem like such a short time... Does it really though, when you sit back and think of all that has happened in those 12 years?

on to the next journey...

Wow! I lost my job last week. Talk about the past few months being pure hell! I think the most painful thing is learning that I wasn't even a part of "The Team" that I was tricked into believing true.

3 days out from the hospital still trying to make it through a day with the pain that I have learned I will end up having to live with, I receive a phone call. The first one in over a week from my previous employer. (not one phone call to see how I was while laying in the hospital bed for 8 days.) Mind you, we were a company of 4, I wasn't a number in a large corporation.

Both of the guys who run the office are on the phone... the President of the company, a man I look up to and gives me faith that good people still exist, didn't even have the nerve to do it himself. The Vice President of the company, with his monotone and void voice informed me, "We have to take a different direction with your employment here, effective immediately."

All I could do was say "Okay". There was some other words he spoke and to be honest I was numb at that point. At the end of the conversation, I was told we hope you find the answers you need.

If that wasn't bad enough, when stopping in to clear my office and return my keys.... Not a one of them could have made the time to offer any words to me. Hell, one wasn't even there... While the other stayed in his office. I was treated as though I was a leper and had stolen from the company.

I've been hurt by their actions. I understand the politics behind a small company and well, stand behind their decision. Their follow through and actions were shameful and unfortunately showed me a side of them that is shocking.

I am still in a state of being numb. I try each day to move forward but the luster I once had is slowly dulling.

Starting in October my health has been a huge issue. I don't choose to be ill. I don't choose to go through pain or discomfort. I am watching all around me growth in each person I know... Yet, I feel my growth has stunted.

I am perfectly well aware that I am the keeper and key holder of my fate and with each day I allow this dark force to keep pushing me down only permits the luster to die out. My one strength is the continuance of jumping back up... There is no slow moving. I am on my feet and back at it the moment my ass hits the floor. I make the vow to myself, to never allow that to fail.

My next adventure is on its way... it will be bumpy and damn near difficult at times.... But guess what I'm not strong bitch and I will roll with the punches!

Can't I tell that little part to just shut up...

I think at some point I would like to not worry about what negative thing is going to come my way when I am at a happy point or really even think something may be going well. I often wonder just how many terrible things have had to happen for me to even worry about what craptastic thing was going to make it's way into my direct path.

A friend of mine asked me the other day how my wrist was feeling and had it healed.... After several months and being completely immobilized for the majority of that time... It was taking it's sweet time healing... I informed him "I am worried about it being healed, because then I get to dread the new thing that happens to me" He laughed. I was serious.

Well, it's finally healing and no longer swelling... and now I am working on dealing with my newest issue. YAY! SIKE!!!!

Not to mention, I've been feeling a bit like a teenage girl lately... a bit giddy and all... and there is this tiny voice in the back of my head telling me to not get all too excited about it. Really there is not need for it. It's like I'm prepping myself for failure. I don't want to admit it.... I don't like to acknowledge it. There is no reason to. But there is a part of me that is just scared.

Can't I tell that little part to just shut up.

let the anxiety commence

.... all I do these days is try to get through them as best as I can. I am not a depressed individual. In fact I haven't been happier than I have been in years. I enjoy waking in the morning and going to work. I enjoy seeing my peers, my friends, my family... I enjoy living life... but I do not enjoy seeing each day pass by as though it were only a moment in time.

My kids are no longer babies. 11, 7 and 5... how did that happen?? When did that little baby boy with the big head grow up and start getting ready to enter into middle school? When did that tiny baby girl with the tiny little fingers grow up and start preparing for second grade? When did that big headed peanut baby boy grow up to be big enough to start kindergarten in 21 days?

When did this mommy lose all of her babies? When did they become big kids? When did they become so independent? When did they start walking their owns journeys; letting go of my hand?

So many questions... so many pangs of pain... so many sleepless nights...

I am so proud of them. They are smart and strong and caring. They are shining lights in the dark nights. They are beams of the sun's light. I do not fear for them growing... I have given them the core they need... I will continue to feed their hearts, minds and souls. I can no longer mold them, that is for them to do now.

That is where the emptiness grows. The feeling of no longer being needed. How will I be able to deal with my last little monkey no longer running to me and wrapping his little arms around my neck because he is so excited to see me? I have lost that with my other two... and so much more... my heart is shredding...