I apologize in advanced

Have you ever felt so mad that your skin crawls? Felt so mucky that it is hard to put a smile on your face and even fake it? Felt so bogged down by life that the only thing you end up feeling in the end is numb? I do. Every day

I have spent my life on the pride that I have been raised in a household that was celebrated with self expression and the ability to take up for yourself. We were also told to celebrate our independence. We were raised to believe in what was right, as you remember, but with a sense of great humility. So how were we to know how to balance this gift? To our parents the importance of knowing who we are balanced with a sense of great gratitude and love was of great importance; in theory, an amazing achievement; in life, not probable. So how were we to know where the balance of a gift and the love of a talent were to meet? My bossiness has been well documented along with virtues, but what has come of my amazing ability to love? I know I have plenty of it to go around; but where did it go? Everyone celebrates and congratulates my ability to lead and the “take charge” attitude that was instilled in me as a child, but where did my imaginative and compassionate talent, a greatly praised talent when I was younger, go? If you find it, can you please promptly return it? I know exactly the day and time that all of the ability to care left me: November 22^rd, 2010 at about 1:00 am,when the officer told me about my sister. Does this make me a bad person? I hope not. I can only hope that after a severe bout with anger, resentment, and life that I can return to the human that I once was, before Jessica died. To those of you that have been injured or harmed on my tirade for personal realization and the lack of resilience that I have shown, just know, that I have suffered, and that I can only claim “human”! The pain that my family and I will have to carry with us, for the rest of our time on earth, will be life long, and therefore our resilience will have to prove the same. Pray that we have the strength. Please know that my hurtful words and unkind looks are not emotions that I have control over at this point and I plead insanity! No really, I am trying to recover in the only way that I know possible.  Please know that what I have said or acted upon isn’t me, more than it is a shell of the person that I once was. Let me explain: when you have felt your worse, your sickest, most down, multiply that by 1000. Now multiply that by 1000. And you are alone, with no one to talk to and the idea that world is completely against you, and there is no one to share these sentiments to. That is where I am and have been. The biggest hole you could dig for yourself, covered with cement. Though the idea of a light at the end of the tunnel sounds amazing, I need night goggles to find a glimpse of that light. The worst part is that I have been blessed with the amazing pressure of everyone that surrounds me. Within the first 24 hours of learning of Jessica’s death I was expected to accept, entertain, and maintain the well-being of my entire family, all the while suffering a tremendous loss of which I didn’t have 3 seconds to process on my own. 1:00 am came quick every night for me thereafter and sleep has become somewhat of a miracle in my mind since. I am not making excuses for my inexcusable behavior the last few months, or my inability to filter my thoughts into more educated or respected words, I am simply asking for forgiveness for imperfections that I have no control over at this point. I can do little more than beg at this point, an unbecoming trait in me that I know is tiring. Please know that all of my bad habits (ALL) are inexcusable, but know that I am human, just as you, but that I will strive to create a more harmonious tactic in my judgments, words, and actions. Everyone experiences loss in their life, and ones that are more tremendous than the one I have experienced, I just can't seem to get it together the way most people do. Words are my only comfort. Please know that my insensate banter, my sarcastic comments, and my harsh sentiments are not a reflection of who I am, or used to be, but, unfortunately, who I have become. "But this to shall pass". Right? Jessica was an enormous part of my life and the anger has settled in and made a home in my heart, which neither she nor I would appreciate. Please bear with me while I work to cleanse that hate, hurt, and anger from my heart. I will try very hard to choose my words and actions from thus forth because Jessica wouldn't want it this way. So if I seem covered, painful, spiteful, jealous, and alone....or just wanting to be alone, I am. There is nothing, I have realized, that I can do to relieve it. This is a pain that I must bear on my own. My nerves, words, feelings, and life are on exposed for everyone to see and hear. I write this blog for the hope to save feelings and with the hope to heal another's wounds...I hurt. There I said it. I hurt! The weight that I carry daily will never subside, I know that now, please, please, please be patient.

And besides, how do you learn to say goodbye to a piece of your heart? Please forgive and bear.

The little book...

A few weeks ago mom gave me a ribbon-bound booklet of some stories and poetry you had written for a project for your 11th grade English teacher. It consisted of various journal entries, poems, and articles that you had written throughout the year. It was bound together by three tiny pieces of pink ribbon and I pictured you meticulously tying them together and then I thought, "You probably stole these from some unsuspecting little girl or a cat's toy or something."

I am not sure what it was entirely what it was that took me so long to finally read it; perhaps I was afraid of what I might find in it. I have spent a lot of time trying to gather the broken pieces of me and shelter what little bit is still intact, but you can’t spend your life running from the pain. So I read it, and I am glad that I did. It was like I was seeing your quirky personality and sarcastic tone come to life again on paper. As I was reading it, I could hear your voice saying the words out loud. At the bottom of some of the entries you added a personal commentary, obviously feeling the need to explain the entry to your teacher. It made reading the poems and stories so bitter sweet; knowing how much thought you put into the project as whole, a project about your uncertain future. Some of the entries were heartbreaking while some I literally had tears rolling down my face. There is something about keeping your personality alive that is intoxicating to me and I feel like these writings truly capture the essence of who you were.

The first line of page one is “before you begin reading though, I have some things to explain to you about me”. You are the only person I have ever known that would need to explain to your readers your insane thoughts. I read that line and thought to myself, “Yeah, ya do, that is the understatement of the year”. You go on to explain that, basically, you are the best writer in the world and by withholding your talent from your audience you were somehow depriving the world of something really important, like oxygen. Ha! It is just so you, to fluff your own tail feathers. You even take the time to thank your humble teacher for projecting you into the depths of your talent. You explain the order and “intensity” of your compositions so that your audience can see your “strategy”. In the true spirit of you, you end the first page with, “Have fun. Be good. And may the force be with you! Love you madly, Jessica Lynn .”

After the introduction, comes what the first entry of your “poems” section, a poem you named “Dear Me-In the Future”. It is a poem about 5 years from now, now being November 1^st, 20. Obviously, you never made the five year mark, but reading it was softening and peaceful, none the less. I laughed so hard at so many parts of this poem and felt the crushing loneliness in others. It wasn’t until I got to your personal commentary on Dear Me- In the Future that the weight and impact of your death was truly felt.  The last line in your commentary is “I can’t wait to see what comes of me in 5 years!” I almost expected to turn the page and discover that they were blank because I know that you only had a chance to partially fulfill those 5 years. But luckily, the pages were filled with even more of your crazy, cynical, impossible banter.

Your personality seemed to infect the world and everyone in it, and I have all but given up trying to figure out how this could happen to you, but reading something that came straight your own thoughts has given me a new sense of resilience. Whether it is a poem about a pet squirrel, or a story about revenge, there will be things that we will stumble across our whole lives that will bring you back into our minds. For the rest of our time here there will be sentiments of you in everything that we do, little reminders of the great impact that you had in our lives.  No matter what, you will remain in our hearts and we will always “love you madly”.