Archive for the ‘soul’ Tag

The freedom and burden of my atheism

Tom has been on my mind so much lately.  I don’t know how to shake it.  There were two deaths in my family recently, which brought up a lot of old term oil.  My Aunt Rose is now gone, way too young, but maybe with some peace.  Tom’s best friend went to see a reader and things were brought up about me.  I was told he was there when i had my break down and while i was in the hospital he was whispering that i wasn’t crazy.  i have also been looking at photos.  not photos of tom, but photos of myself.  i look so different.  it isn’t just the weight change, which dropped me 20 then raised me 40.  my eyes don’t shine when i smile.  there is a darkness that still follows me. so all these things are stirred up in a pot and i am once again wishing that atheism didn’t have such a strong hold on my brain.

when i first became atheist, it saved me from hell.  i was so scared all the time, that i was in the wrong religion and i was going to rot in hell.  it was terrifying.  i would wake up at night with cold chills about it.  after lots of reading, a science education, more reading and some searching into different religious options a spark of freedom came upon me and i lost all belief in any sort of god.  god, and God, and Zeus all became one and i turned to the true awesomeness out there.  i turned to the beauty in chemical bonds and the moon and a fucking  huge tree growing from a small seed. i stared at trees on walks around the city and would stop at my favorites, i would look at the moon, i would watch water boil understanding how complex and amazing it was and gain peace.  i didn’t care what others believed.  i wasn’t out to convert anyone.  i just had peace.

my grandpa died, my grandma died, both way too soon.  both of their deaths “unfair” and both of their deaths leaving me a little lost.  but, atheism stood by me and kept me calm.  i looked at the universe and knew we were all made from star dust and knew it was okay that they were gone.  i would miss them and keep them close to my heart, but death must come to us all and it was okay.

tom died.  tom fucking died and scrambled my being and tore my mind into many fractures and took away the peace atheism had given me for years.  i have been wandering with blank eyes and either pretending he isn’t dead or crying and not understanding and feeling like my “soul” is being ripped apart.  i wrote here for a long time.  i got better, i got worse, i got better, i got really bad, i am now good.  good, except for my eyes.  good, except that i don’t dance with my daughter in the morning to love cats.  good, except i don’t bake as much or laugh as much or see people as much or leave my house as much.  i am good, though.  i am changed.

friends of tom dream about him.  he sends them “meaningful” messages.  everything is silent over here.  people tell me it is because i am not open to him and he will come when i am ready.  i don’t know what that means.  does it mean i kneel and believe in god?  does that mean that their stories are somehow false and not happening? i want to scream and say, if there was any afterlife he would fucking visit ME! so that means there is no afterlife and my atheism is intact.  but then i hear from another friend about her brother and her dreams and i want to crawl back to anything to see or hear my brother in a dream through a medium or as a ghost at the bottom of my bed.

so now, i sit 19 months after tom’s death with that same fear and sadness i had before the freedom of atheism came.

i love the fall.  i am trying to soak it up from inside my house.  maybe a walk in nature will make things better. i haven’t sat with the moon in a long time.  i guess this is just part of the loss.  the confusion.  the desire to raise him from the dead.  the need to know i said everything i could have said before he hung up and shot himself.  it just takes so long…


The eyes are the window to my dead soul

uhg, uhg, uhg, uhg.  i have had a couple of difficult days.  i am not sure what is going on.  maybe the reality of tom being gone is starting to settle in.  i slept most of the day yesterday.  i tried to sleep again today, but vanessa wouldn’t let me and isaac had karate.  i cried a lot yesterday and today.  yesterday it was a long winded cry that went on and on and just would stop.  today i just would find tears falling down my face quickly and they were extra wet.  i have been wanted to smash things.  smash windows or burn books.  yesterday as i rocked in bed i visualized walking out to the garage and just pushing both fists through the windows.  they seemed the least expensive to repair.  i also wanted to get all the crappy books in the house and stick them in the sink and start burning them, but knew it would smell too bad.  i thought about doing it in the back yard in the fire pit, but that would mean leaving the house.  i ended up just sleeping.

isaac is getting used to his mom being in bed.  he doesn’t fight it.  he comes over and says, “hey, mom,” and gives me a hug and kiss.  he then scoots off the bed with an “i love you,” and is back to hanging with his papa. sophia knows it is wrong, but is trying to be supportive.  she will come over once and give me a kiss and tell me that she loves me.  she looks at me with her deep soulful eyes and knows she can’t do a thing.  everything has to come from me.  i have to start smiling and showering more and stop crying.  I HAVE TO DO IT!  she knows there is a weakness that i may or may not be able to help.  she has decided whether she will be sickened by me or have empathy.  that won’t come until later.  i have time to pull my shit together.  i say i am trying.  i think i am trying.  i know i am not making my lists.  i know that i am not running.  i know i have to do more.  i was hoping the meds would help me with that.  i was hoping i just had to survive until the meds kicked in and then i could do those other things i know make me feel better. 

this is too much at times.  the pain and the knot in my stomach and my fucking smile.  i used to be able to just smile at myself in the mirror.  i know i was crabby, but i was a happy person.  sean told me one of the things he loved about me was my smile; it went to my eyes.  my smile reached my soul and was real and lifted my heart.  my mother-in-law sent photos yesterday.  two from march and two from when we were in town in april.  she never sees her son in a suit, to even though i had no interest having my picture taken on my was to my brothers funeral i did it for her.  i love her and i sat on the couch and tried my best to smile.  the two photos of me show a deathness in my eyes.  i am already dead.  my sould is already dead.  you can see it in the photo.  i wanted to fucking stab myself in the heart when i saw that photo. i didn’t even know who that person was.  how could that be me? she looked like a cold bitch. 

 my old original smile.  if you are interested, go look on facebook.  i smile!

 what the hell is happening in this photo?

this can’t really be happening to me.  i lost my brother.  fine. fucking fine.  go shoot yourself in the fucking head and leave us, but what the fuck, tommy, you killed me too.  i can’t even imagine what is going on in mom and dad’s head.  i call them everyday.  i missed today, because i could not let them hear me cry again.  i need a break.  i need something.  i don’t know what i need.  i would like a large glass of wine, but last time i drank i almost poked my eyes out the next day.

why did he do this?  i don’t like who i am now and i have NO FUCKING control over that.  there are other things i need to deal with in my life at the moment.  i need to figure out sophia’s school situation for next year because of a bussing issue.  that takes ME.  that takes the old ME.  who could make phone calls and drive around and figure it all out and just tell sean what was happening and he would tell me it sounded great.  i would then serve an homecooked meal and we would all sit around the table.  i don’t even eat with my kids anymore.  they eat with sean and i hide inside or in bed. 

i don’t want to be mad at tom.  he was hurting.  he was in pain.  BUT i need something else.  this is not enough.  i have friends dragging me out of the house and dropping off sweet packages when i owe them a dvd i borrowed back when my most stressful thing in life was getting isaac to take his codiene.  i am still getting a weekly doughnut and calls and emails and texts, but i need fucking more.  i need something else.  i don’t know what it is.  but i need to raise the dead. i need to rewind time.  i need to jumpstart my soul. i can’t be one of the walking soulless.  that can’t be my destiny. 

i know it has only been two months, but this is my only life and i need it back.  tom left.  tom said goodbye.  tom tried to give me peace.  tom is gone.  i am here, but i am not here.  fucking eh.

Sophia’s Birthday

I wasn’t sure I would be able to pull it off, but I have made Sophia happy on her birthday.  Vanessa made her morning by dropping off the snacks I refused to leave the house to purchase.  Vanessa and Alex then stopped by and we let the boys watch tv while we sat around the table.  Usually I would be in stitches hanging out with the two of them, but it just wasn’t happening.  It was still good for me.  I then took a nap, while Isaac continued with TV.  I am not winning any parenting awards this year.  When I woke up, I could feel tears were ready flow and that they wouldn’t stop once started.  I called Sam and asked her to slap me around and make so I could pull it together by the time Sophia came home.  It worked.

I talked to my brother Sean and we talked about how I am out of control with grief and he hardly feels changed at all.  I wonder, if I am fucked up and he wonders if he is.  I think it has been getting easier for the two of us to talk to each other. 

I am very worried about my dad.  He seems to have a hard time talking without getting choked up.  I have been pushing drugs, but he doesn’t really want to talk about it.  My brother Sean and I talked about how in some ways we just have to give my dad the right to grieve and be sad.  After all just yesterday I had snot running down my face while moaning in the bath tub, why can’t my dad get choked up?  I want to take his pain away.  I feel like he doesn’t have the tools he needs to process this.  I am not sure why I am not as worried about my mom, but she is a strong russian and seems like she can deal with anything.  Not that I don’t think about her and feel sorrow for her and wish I could make things better for her, I just don’t worry.

I continue to beg my brother Nicholas to leave San Diego and move near me.  I don’t know why I feel like I need him close, but I do.

I want Nicholas in Chicago


I feel like I need him.  I need him.  I need him.

Sean and I talked a lot last night.  I told him how worried I was about our marriage.  He is not worried.  He has given me permission to fall completely apart for as long as I need.  Tomorrow will be our 17 year wedding anniversary. 

I am not here.  I feel very foggy and I am not really writing from the heart.  I am writing more because I have made a committment to write.  Maybe tomorrow I will have better access to my soul.  At the moment it is surrounded by steal.  Tears have not flowed today.