Death and all their friends

Someone once wrote that there would be a time that we played outside for the last time and we didn’t know it would be our last time until years later we look outside our bedroom window and see the sandbox and see the teeter totter laying on its side, never to be played with again.

They also say death is inevitable, but the day someone dies, we don’t know when will be the last time we talk to someone before they are gone.

I had two people in my life die today and both were most likely due to alcoholism. It’s sobering since today is my half birthday.

One was my great uncle whom I didn’t know well. I found out via group text and I think I was apart of the group text by accident. Because I knew before my dad knew, it was his uncle. My own memory of this person was visiting his cabin and he was in a drunken stupor and my mother drank one of his fifths of vodka by herself so she became belligerent herself. I cried the whole way to our destination because mom kept trying to open the doors of a moving vehicle and she was, well, a belligerent alcoholic herself.

The other was one of my mom’s best friends in sobriety. I knew this lady quite well myself and I know she adored me. She was found by police with an empty bottle of booze to her mouth, deceased in a Walmart parking lot. Her father survived her and my mother called him because he always liked my mom. All he really said was “the devil got her.” He didn’t cry, he was emotionless. My mother was the last to talk to this lady the day before her death. I guess when cleaning up her room, there was notes with my mother’s name all over the place (my mother is notorious for writing letters).

When my mother woke me up to say that she was dead, I worried about her sobriety. She’s got almost six years sober in October. However she said she never wants to see a bottle again, not even at the grocery store.

I don’t know how to feel. I am at work alone. Well, my clients are asleep. My boyfriend is MIA although I don’t know why. Yesterday I was very manic and had so much energy and it was like I needed a horse tranquilizer to knock me out. I ended up smoking weed and taking two Xanax I had and it knocked me out cold once I got home, thank God. At least if I am asleep I can’t do anything stupid.

That was yesterday though. Today I am… out of sorts. I feel discombobulated I am not sure how to feel. And that’s okay.

Tonight to work I wore my Cross ring because mom has the same one and I figured she wears hers all the time, so should I. I’m not a big jewelry person but I think for today I can cram my pudgy middle finger on a ring and have it cover (partially) my semi colon tattoo which is a symbol of mental health and addiction awareness which is why I chose to wear this ring on that finger.

I need to do school tonight really bad but my motivation is lacking. I just want to sleep and go home but since those few things aren’t gonna happen, I better make the use of my shift while I am here with really nothing else to do. I am so close to the end of the quarter I can feel it. I really need to power through and finish strong.

Oh. And I applied to another grant that I supposedly qualified for and I got a call yesterday that I personally make too much money to qualify for said assistance, otherwise they would have been happy to give it to me. They said my essay and application was great, they thought I included my parents’ income for household and I said I do live with my parents but dad’s over 65 years old so I knew I was considered an independent student rather than a dependent having to include their income as well as mine. But even so, I make too much apparently which I think is hilarious. But I digress.

I mean, it’s not like my financial education needs are *not* met, because they are. It’s just nice that if I needed extra funds it would be there. I did recently qualify for a work study grant and they allocate a certain amount per quarter but I don’t know if I need to get a second job or if the job now that I have counts considering I work in the human services field and I am getting my degree in social work and drug/alcohol counseling. So I gotta figure that out at least for fall quarter since that starts mid September which isn’t that far away. I have about a month off in-between summer and fall quarter and hopefully I can get some stuff done around the house in that time.

I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. Today is not a very good day. And that’s okay. My heart is heavy and I feel very bitter about a lot of different things, insignificant things. I feel like I care so much about everyone else that it is almost a detriment to myself. I feel that I am maybe too open which can also be a detriment to myself. But without empathy and honesty, who am I?

I feel as though people only really step into my life when I start getting super manic and out of control. That is also the last time I have seen some of my so-called “friends”. It’s always when I am gambling and when I am sleeping around or out of control that people in my life get involved. I have everything going for me, seemingly, and no one asks how I am. I think more this week than most I have wanted to put a loaded gun to my head yet people pass me by and tell their sob stories and I can’t seem to catch a break.

A good friend of mine called me last weekend that he got fired for being suicidal and he was deemed a threat to the security of the base he was working at. He graphically reported how he would hang himself and he laughed. He is a severe alcoholic and he’s 29 years old. I fear he won’t live to see 30. He says I am happy to hear you’re doing good, without asking how I was much at all.

Because what can I say? I didn’t just lose my job of ten years. I am not addicted to major substances. I don’t have guns so I can’t execute my plan. I have a relationship ( well, maybe he’s been MIA so gotta figure that out). I am going to school and bettering my future. I have a plan.

Suicidal ideation is creeping into the plan because it’s starting to immobilize me because I didn’t think I would make it to 24.5 years old. I didn’t think I would be on the verge of getting my own place. I didn’t think I would have a successful blog. I didn’t think I would have virtually no one to share my wins with, but hey. I am a shitbag so maybe I deserve it? I am a gambler who can’t quit. I have lied. I have cheated. I’ve hurt others I love. Maybe I am not done being punished for my bad behavior. Personal autonomy is great and all until it leaves you in the dust with no one who gives a fuck about you, not even you give a fuck about you.

“The devil got her.”

What a horrible thing to hear about somebody. Their demons were greater than any angel whom could save from worldly pleasures and vices. Part of me wonders if it was a suicide plot but I guess I will never know that. I never want to succumb to my demons because of how it affects others but it’s hard. Gosh, it’s hard.

I care about each and every one of you so don’t be a stranger.

much love,


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