I don’t understand coming or going half the time, but I have a lot of advocates. I don’t know why I’m not able to communicate well with people anymore. I seem to have a little patience, as if I had any to start with. Being bipolar and manic at that, and not medicated I should say, I think I’ve done pretty well not to have hurt anyting besides myself.
Tomorrow I go to see my advocate to help me get ready for trial. Hopefully they’ll be able to get me a little help that I’ve long needed. I don’t a lot of trust in this but we’ll see. My brain is just going a hundred miles an hour. I just want it to stop. I just hate myself. I don’t want to be around me. Why do I have to be this way. Why can I not find help???
I have a friend in jail because they won’t do what they’re supposed to do probation violation. I have another friend who’s in the hospital because she drinks too much I would say alcoholic but there’s a lot more to it than just that. I’m sitting here miserable doing laundry, hating everything about myself.
What is an advocate?? I have one for medical I have one for the doctors I have one for the lawyers I have one for the I have one for everything but what are they doing?? Why can’t somebody put me in the right direction without the same old crap? Why don’t they listen? Does anyone listen? If you think about it you don’t listen. No one listens. They ask you; How are you? That does anyone take the time to really listen what the other person says? I used to tell William but I was pregnant LOL. It was pretty funny when I thought he wasn’t listening he really was. Or at least he heard pregnant
I just want to be halfway normal. I want to be a positive role model and a contributor to society. I don’t want to be somebody no one likes. I understand people don’t always like you but in general you know what I mean. I hope this Advocate I’m seeing tomorrow can help me at least get on the right track. That would be a blessing.
Today hasn’t been a good day. And of course I have to get way out there. I can’t just let it go. Advocate…
I used to love Christmas, but this year I don’t like it anymore. It’s just another day. I know it’s Jesus’s birthday and I’m happy that he died for our sins. But I don’t like this holiday. People are just fake. No one cares about anybody but themselves. It’s unbelievable to me the people treat each other so badly.
I’ve been trying so hard to figure out what I’m doing wrong. Why can’t I ever get it right? Why does it have to be so hard? Why does my family not support me? Why does my daughter hate me and won’t talk to me?
I was told by someone much younger than me, that I have never taken responsibility for my actions. I didn’t deserve to be a mother. I’m telling you I could have went through the internet and pull that girls hair out of her head. She doesn’t have a clue what I’ve been through. She’s never walked in my shoes. But she blames me for things she did as a child. Talk about taking responsibility for your own actions, please!!!
I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know if I’m going to stay in California or I’m going to go back east. I know I’ve never dealt with any of my problems. I’ve always been told just keep on going. I wasn’t even supposed to mourn William but a week. You stand in somebody’s blood and tell me that it’ll only take you a week to get better. I drank and I drank a lot and yes I wanted to talk about it. But every time I did I was told to shut up. I just want to get better. I just want to be happy. I want my family back. But I won’t get it. Maybe one day my daughter will love me again. I hope so. I hope it’s before I die. If not then I’ll just have to live with that. Because I can’t make her do anything, I never could, I wasn’t allowed. I never had anybody that was there for me. People say it’s not all about you and I know that’s true. But they sure do think a lot about themselves and how they’re so much better than me. If that’s the way you’re supposed to be to be a good person, I don’t want to be one!
So, Merry Christmas…
It will be three days until the morning of William’s suicide. Suicide has been a hard thing for me to grasp for the past two years. I’ve made so many stories up in my head I really don’t know what I believe anymore.
I’ve found a gentleman who makes me feel like a woman and friend. He’s very straight forward and harsh at moments, but I think that I’ve known him before. You know, when I made the decision to come back to right my wrongs. It’s a struggle at moments, but I like him a lot. Maybe it’s love. It’s not the same. I can’t change this man to be what I had.
We’re trying to get a place together and tonight we’re in Carlsbad, CA, on the way back from Oceanside. We had the most wonderful dinner. We were walking towards town and these lights caught my eyes. It was a winery Restuarant, PAEO. It was the first really nice dinner we’ve had since we met.
The boat will be my new home. Live aboard status, as they say. I’ll have a HOME, again. It’s taken 2 years to be able to let myself try to love again. It’s very hard for me to think he’s really gone. These next days are going to be a blur. My family, Miss E have no memory of what’s gone through my mind. They thought they knew me, but I don’t even know myself. In the next three days…
I find myself alone again, maybe the first time since I moved to California. This month is very emotional for me. This is August. The 12th was Miss E’s bday, the 16th my daddy’s. Then the dreaded 26th. That day all over again. My new beau seems to understand at moments. I believe he just gives up. He’s a person of words. The hit to the bone, but that’s not really him. He’s been through things that are so unbelievable that they have to be true. I just feel as if I’m paying for it sometimes. I “see” him. Not who he thinks he has to be. Sometimes I can’t even look a certain way, it’s like he’s trying to run me off.
He was supposed to be going fishing tonight, but idk something happened and it’s going to be tomorrow night. I’m sorta glad he didn’t go,it meant he would hopefully come back to me. I’m selfish that way I guess. I also wish he had gone. He needed to be away from me as much as I needed to be alone. I haven’t written in so long. It’s my therapy, so why do I not take care of myself?
I’m so upset with Miss E, I could send her to the moon. She didn’t answer my text or my phone calls for her bday. I finally called and sang “Happy Birthday” and left it on her voicemail. Still, no answer. Not even FUCK YOU! I guess I really am the selfish, cold-hearted, bitch that everyone thinks I am. I really don’t care anymore. I just want to be ME. Whoever that is now. Some moments I feel as though I know who I am and what I want out of life. Other times I feel that no one understands me and I’m at the end of my rope.
The closer it gets to the “two” year anniversary mark I get more emotional. I guess in a way I feel that I’m not being faithful. In other ways, I forget, then there are days I want to crawl under a rock and hide from everyone and forget what’s happened. It works sometimes, even if just for a moment. But then the dreaded truth comes back to my head and I remember the last moments of “our” life together. The waking up with my remarkable husband, holding me and making love to me. Me, rolling over to ask what he wanted for breakfast and then off to make the coffee. I can’t remember if he even drank a sip. The last time I saw his living being, before it all ended and I lost my world. I found out how the world really is and what people think of me and who is also there for me, in a time that I need them. I’ve found that’s not too many people.
People forget. People don’t want to hear what you NEED to talk about. They use all your insecurities against you and hate you because they believe you to be a victim. I have been a victim, but I’m not using it as an excuse to like or hate me. I am who I am. I don’t try to be anything I’m not. I’ve had people tell me, “just be yourself”. The problem with that is I’m always myself. Maybe to afraid sometimes to say what I’m really thinking, but always me. This time…
Well, this will be the sixth move since William died in our house, in our bed, where I found him. Now I’m a nomad, searching for answers that I may or may not find. Yeah, Bob and I got into it, again. He’d been drinking. I tried to get out of the conversation, but it didn’t work to good.
Then later around 9 I go to bed, even turn the tv off. I hear him very loudly, calling my name. I thought I was dreaming. He was bent out of shape because the neighbor was playing opera too loud. LMAO. I wanted to choke him, but I didn’t think I had the strength and I’d left my gun back in NC because he’s a convicted felon. I know you got a hundred questions now, but it had to do with kids and it was in the 80’s and blah, blah…anyway this has nothing to do with that. But I’m tired of his smart ass remarks about William and putting me down and changing what he thinks my duties and such for my discounted rent, which he says he pays me for. I’ve never seen the green.
Then he says I can’t watch his dog while he’s gone out of town because he thinks I’ll kill her. Comes back last night and ask if I was going to keep her. I told him NO.
He thinks I live in the past, well if what’s happened since William died is any indication of the future, I’ll continue to stay exactly where I am. At least I know William loved and adored me, faults and all. So, off we’ll go on the sixth move…
It’s been windy and cloudy, some sun. Not enough to put your suit on and layout on the beach, at least not this chick. I guess I’m just going to come straight out and tell you guys I’ve been on a date. It was ok. I didn’t die. Neither did they, lol. I’m ready to move again. I’m terrible. The next couple of months are called the gloomy months. Great! But I had rainy seasons in Asia, so there we go, lol.
Going to write in my book today, first time since I got here. I’m just now half way figuring out which way I need to go. It takes time. Southerns aren’t necessarily welcome. But it’s all good. Just gloomy weather…
My brother finally made in around 8 pm Saturday night. I got to see him a couple of hours. He was actually here to see a lady from Vietnam he had been introduced to several years ago. She lives here in San Diego, but my brother in living in Vietnam, getting ready to move to Hong Kong. Talk about long distance relationship. So all day Sunday she had the whole day planned. She’s lived here about 20 years. He finally gets back to the hotel at 8:45 pm.
Bob and I are waiting, have been since 8:15 pm. I thought my older brother might want to meet my male roommate. My brother barely said hello. He talked a little to Bob, but only slightly. Bob made a comment about it this morning, he said you looked happy to see your brother. Your brother didn’t look happy to see you. I always thought my family felt this way about me, but I have been validated. I can’t believe this…
Today has been very surreal. A friend I thought I made is actually not a friend, just someone to let me know I’m fucking up again. I was told not to trust anyone and I should have known better. These words were not given lightly, but firmly. Not to intimidate, but to help guide me. For me to trust my intuition. Not to numb myself the way I have been.
I may not be able to remember a lot of things, but I’m starting to remember things that William told me at different times in our relationship. The one thing I do know is that our time is not over. We are together forever. This time was not long enough. I forget somedays and it makes for very bad days. I know this time, my new beginning, is supposed to be special and it’s anything but that. I can turn that around. Next month, May, starts the new beginning. Watching my money, my drinking, no extra spending, NO extra spending. Saving for September when I’ll be going back to NC to get the rest of my things and then back to San Diego. We’re going to take 3 weeks. It’s going to be the same couple that went to school with William and I.
I have to rethink my ways. Pay attention to how I speak to people and make sure I don’t embarrass myself. William always said, What’s going to happen to you when I’m not there to take care of you? Well, we knew…
I was walking down one the streets to the ocean. They all have little shops, with all kinds of different motifs. This was a book, crystal, tarot, sage kind of store. They had a reader and I’d stopped another day, but didn’t stay. Later I walked by and I had to stop. She says I holding William here, that this was my new beginning, by my birthday in July.
Now, I don’t know that I believe all that. But I think she had a few things right. It is my new beginning, that’s already started. William is where he needs to be. It’s funny how you long to hear their voice, their laugh. Maybe singing off key. William, I miss you as much today, as I did the day you died. The only difference is I’m numb. So, very numb. I don’t sleep without you. I look like shit. I lost our house.We won’t even talk about your family or mine.
If you see the picture I’ve chosen as the feature photo. We had just moved into our house and I don’t know about you girls, but that is a damn fine looking man. I don’t know maybe I’m prejudice. I guess I just really needed to talk about him today. William-my best friend, lover, confidant, partner
It’s clearer now…
It was a little scary because it was dark and I had no idea where the hell I was or how to get to the suite. I see shadows and it looks like flashes of people around me. They don’t scare me, only the dark.
I finally find the right place and I walk in and Dr M walks out. He’s still in session, but needs me to fill out the dreaded paperwork. So, I do. In about 10 or so minutes his client comes out and he comes out and calls me in to his office.
He began by giving me a brief history about his credentials and then the tables were turned. I briefly went through the morning of William’s suicide. Everything was brief. I really wasn’t specific about my family, except more so about Miss E. How do you answer, at a first session, questions whole heartily? You can’t. Trust!!
He started in on drug abuse, etc. Why do they always do that? My PTSD isn’t according to your fucking book? My Bipolar isn’t according to what you’ve seen before? Oh, let’s not forget the Borderline Personality Disorder, he just wasn’t sure about that either. Well, not to be disrespectful, but I’ve had 3-4 psychiatrist diagnose me, hmm. I really don’t think a therapist is as qualified. I could be wrong.
I told him about losing time, but played it off with the beating during the rape. He seemed to agree. Time will tell. I’m supposed to make a list of goals that I’d like to achieve and take to our next session. I haven’t even started yet, but I’ve been thinking about it, in between crying thinking about Miss E. I want sooooooooo bad to hear her voice or at least get a text. Maybe, just maybe, my brother would use some FF Miles and she would come see me. I’m really wishing upon a star. Ok, I went…