Guilt and Saddness

I really hate it when I am feeling melancholy…lately I cry at commercials, children I see playing, my dog Luna’s funky eye, you name it and I will cry at it.  I am very solitary and being alone is fine with me in fact I prefer it over lots of company, but lately I feel lonely. Not the kind of lonely where I want to surround myself with people, just an empty loneliness like something is missing from my soul, heart, body I don’t know how to explain the feeling…

And although I feel empty I find myself annoyed with most everyone….the nice girl at work who just happens to have an overly cheerful singsong voice and laugh, she is sweet yet I want to tell her to shut the hell up. Another very sweet gal that works on our floor, so nice and bubbly yet I cannot stand listening to her talk, I could go on and on but I think you get my drift. You who know me know how much I adore my neighbor but lately it is all I can do to not just yell shut up and run away. WHY? What in the hell is wrong with me……..I know what it is, I know all too well what it is and yet struggle to say it or write it for fear that I will hurt people. Maybe by then of this blog I will feel I can write it..I need to, not so people can tell me how sorry they are or to buck up or any other reason. I need to because it is festering in me and making my own skin hard to live in. I worry, I have always worried about not hurting others feelings, or rocking the boat, it is ok to state how you feel as long as you do not deliberately injure others with your remarks it should be ok….right?

Fathers Day was hard this year, most of my friends spending the day with their dads, posting pictures of them as kids with their dad or even as adults. And those who do not have their dad with them anymore, still posting pictures and memories of them. I don’t have that, I don’t have pictures of my dad and I when I was little. I don’t have pictures of us as adults other than a wedding picture (which is bittersweet to look at) because I am fat, and I hate my picture taken. And again I kick myself for being to stubborn to have a picture taken, or conversation even if I don’t want to. Because now….. it is too late. I miss him, I miss his voice, and smile and even his heavy sighs and grumpy frown. I wish the first 44 years of my life I had tried as hard as I did the last year of his life to get to know my dad on a deeper level. We had good talks that last year.

This is the first Mothers Day and Birthday that I have not heard from both my kids. I miss them so. People ask why do I not go home anymore, the truth is just too hard. I miss my dad, I miss my mom, I miss my daughter, and mostly I miss my son. We were always so close he and I. And then I moved to Gresham and let him stay in Burns, he only had 6 months to graduate and I did not want to take him away from his friends. I think I will always regret that choice. Would it have made a difference in how things turned out, probably not, but then again…..

I feel guilty for even talking about it, I have so many friends whose children have died. But I miss the boy I had prior to his wreck in a way there is a little tiny part of him that died that day. There is just something different about him, I know he loves me, I know that with all my heart but it isn’t like it was prior to his wreck. Of all the injuries he suffered from that horrible accident, the brain injury is not obvious to people who do not know him like I do or his sister or gramma or even his aunt. The loss of his foot and multitude of other horrific injuries he suffered are obvious to anyone who sees him…..to me it is the subtle change in his personality that hurts me the most. I miss him, we don’t see each other when I go home, we rarely speak on the phone, I rely on friends and my mom to let me know he is ok. I miss him, there is hole in my soul and I cannot fill it or make it stop aching and I think that is why I am so angry and sad and riddled with guilt. I know he loves me…….I know his life is just not what it should be, he deserves so much more. I pray daily that God somehow helps him to know how loved he is and how he survived for a reason. I love him and I miss him and I feel guilty for even writing this or feeling this way when so many others have lost more than I could ever imagine. But I need to…..


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