Archive for September, 2010|Monthly archive page

I cooked today

I cooked and baked today.  I have put together meals since april, but nothing real and substantial.  i woke up and decided to make ratatouille.  i walked over to the cermak and purchased the extra ingredients i needed, came home and started chopping.  ratatouille takes a couple of hours to make.  there is a lot of chopping and sauteing and then bringing everything together in a big dutch oven to stew for an additional hour or so.  i knew the ratatouille needed bread so i actually made bread also.  i made a rosemary and kalamata olive recipe from my friend kris.  the kids smiled and jumped and tore into the bread with total glee. my back was killing me after i was done, but i was happy to have finally made a meal with some love in it.  i scooped some into a couple of jars and brought walked some over to vanessa and paul’s and tom and chal’s place. 

the zoloft and abilify are working.  i was getting worried for a few days because the tears were flowing again.  i was being haunted by tom’s suicide again.  i was remembering the moment my dad called and how i screamed into the phone and could barely breath.  i was remembering our last words and wanting to go back to april and somehow try to stop him again.  i wanted a do-over and i never want do-overs.  i was begging the universe to give tom back to us.  i felt childish and wanted to throw things and shatter glass.  i still can be brought to my knees when i think too hard about tom or for too long, but i am not feeling haunted.

i listened to metallica’s “fade to black” this morning and had mixed emotions.  i was greatful for them trying to capture the blackness tom was feeling, but also knew they really had know idea.  who the fuck were they to try to pretend they knew.  a bullet never crossed their skulls.  they never faded to black as blood covered their cell phone.  who were they to make money off of the true pain of suicide.  i am mostly listening to hip hop at the moment.  i try to listen to other music, but anything that tugs at my heart tears it open and i bleed out.  i drive home after dropping phia off at taft and sob if anything, but DMX or even something soft like B.o.B. is blasting from my stereo. 

i am getting better, but i am different.  i am changed.  i don’t know how much of the change is forever.  i don’t know who i will be when i wake up tomorrow.  i am softer and harder.  i am closed and open.  i am changed from tom’s suicide. i am changed from the violence of his last act.  i am changed from losing a best friend and a brother. i am also changed from the zoloft and abilify.  i am changed from grieving and from recovering.  i see myself but don’t fully recognize the eyes looking back at me.

Advertisements

Excuses

I have not written in a long time.  I had house guests for 3 weeks and it sort of removed the rhythm.  I was feeling better.  I was feeling worse.  I was feeling confused.  In the end, I lost motivation for many reasons but the most honest reason is that I have a difficult time following through with anything.  I follow through with close relationships, but not distant ones.  I have just started finishing projects.  It could just be the grief that has driven me to the level of obsession i need to crochet or knit a project to the end.  i am hoping maybe tom’s death has changed me into someone who finishes things.  i have started to finish the dishes.  i used to leave something in the sink, because i just couldn’t complete the task. i was making my bed every day, but the surgery has slowed that down.  i was writing every day, but something has slowed it down.

i went off the abilify and fell into the darkness again.  i didn’t far as deep or hard, but i did end up in bed for three days.  the grief washed over me and i could not catch a breath.  i ruminated about starting back on the abilify.  i mean, it could just be a normal phase in the grief process or it could be pms or maybe i was just feeling normal.  maybe normal for me was tired and normal for me was constant tears.  maybe that is the normal reaction to losing a brother.  why drug myself through something so normal?  luckily there was a small voice telling me the pain wasn’t worth it and that my kids and marriage need me to be stronger than i could be on my own.  i needed help.  i also had family telling me it was okay to go back on.  i had janet tearing apart any logic i thought i was creating to stay off it.  i had vanessa arms crossed, phone in her back pocket staring me down. 

i started the abilify again about 5 days ago and it has been a hard process.  i am out of bed, but i am crying a lot.  i miss tom.  i don’t want him to be gone.  i don’t want to have a dead brother.  yesterday was stupid suicide prevention day.  fuck you.  fuck you for telling me it would have been okay to bring up suicide to tom.  fuck you for telling me it would have gotten him talking and not pushed him away.  i am crying or raging.  i have a lot of hatred brewing.  vanessa reminds me that this happened before.  i want to spit out words to tear down people around me.  i want to slam dishes onto the floor and stomp on the shattered glass. vanessa keeps telling me this will pass.  i believe her.  i don’t know it yet, but i trust her to tell me the truth. 

i dropped the kids off at school this week and missed tom.  i used to call him after those kind of moments and talk, talk, talk.  i would talk to him about the kids then about how board i was driving home.  i would make him listen to my random thoughts during my commute back home or to work when i was at u.i.c.  i would make him listen to me when i was avoiding writing a paper or working on my graduate thesis.  i would make him listen to me when i needed to rant about the family secrets.  i thought i mostly listened to him, but he listed to me too.  i wish him back a lot.  i wish him back like a little girl.  i actually sometimes believe my time spent wishing him bask isn’t wasted.  it is to much to believe i will never see him again. 

i try to remind myself how lucky i am.  i had three amazing brothers.  i now still have two amazing brothers who i love and who love me back.  they love me in a way not everyone gets to experience.  they love me for me.  they don’t care about my flaws they see them and shrug them off.  they know me.  sean supports me no matter what.  nicholas is one of the few people in the world who tells me off and knocks me off soap boxes.  my brothers friends have stepped in to offer love and support too.  i used to think it would all add up to enough, but it isn’t .  it is not enough.

Vanessa and Nicholas at Liz's