Dear Dad, I’m 44

Hey, Dad. I wish you were here.

But I’m hoping you’re up there, is that even right? “Up there?” Maybe you’re beside me? Maybe that’s why sometimes I don’t feel as alone, as if I could reach out and hug you, and maybe that’s why other times I have an overwhelming feeling of just wanting to go home? Happiness with you was my home. Anywhere, up there, beside me, whatever, I hope Heaven is a groovy place. I hope you’re watching the Cowboys and the Rangers, maybe playing Spades or a game of catch. The latter is difficult to think about because of the way and circumstances in which you died. Died. Passed on. I think I like “passed on.” Passed on to something better. It still rips my heart apart knowing you were playing baseball and enjoying life, no idea you were about to take your last breath. It seems unfair, in a way, the lack of a warning. No family with you. Just playing a game of baseball, falling… and gone. Just gone. People can say “passed on,” but you’re gone. That’s what I know for certain. Everything changed on September 8, 1992.

Sometimes, I become quite angry we didn’t get to say goodbye to you, but would I really prefer you to have had a longer type of illness, and wither away, seeing you in pain? No. It’s best to know you left doing something you loved. You were only 44 years old.

I’m 44 years old today, Dad.

And I’m scared. Honestly, I didn’t even expect to make it to 44. Now, here I am, and I have this dread. I’m scared of 44 because of your early death and that of your own Dad’s. Maybe you tried to be a great Dad to us because you lost your Dad far too early as well? I wish our youngest sister remembered you better. She was only 4 years old, though. I’m glad our other sister, closer to my age, has day to day memories of you as well.

I’m scared of being 44. I’m scared I’ll leave my son far too early. And who would take care of my Mom? I’m afraid of the pain, I’ll be honest. Mostly, I’m afraid of the unknown. Whatever fills that vast unknown, I know that someday, many days and years from now, after I see my son marry and have his own children, I know you’ll be there waiting for me, welcoming. And if it should be sooner that I show up, please be there to hold me and tell me everyone I leave behind will be okay.

I can’t wait to hug you again.

I miss you. Send me a sign if you’re able. Love you.

Joy

12.23.18 blog entry – Joy

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How are you, guys?

I ask because the holidays can be a challenging time for anyone – wonderful things like family and preparing a Christmas feast, but some sad times too like missing someone long gone, celebrating in Heaven.

Besides missing folks, sometimes people don’t have anyone joining them for the holidays, sometimes shopping can spike anxiety levels because of the crowds and loud noise and the rush.

So, I just want to say Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays. I hope you’re doing okay. I hope you find and feel JOY and love. I hope you chuckle at something cute and silly.

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Again I ask, how are you? Please reach out if you need help. Please don’t isolate. You are NOT alone. Not because of your circumstances and not because of your feelings.

God bless you. Take care of yourselves and each other. 🙏✌🎄

Common Denominator

11.26.18 blog entry Common Denominator

I’m not sure why. I have spent hours upon hours in days among days trying to figure it out. My mom once told me not to bother wasting time like that because after all, is the person or persons I’m thinking about even giving me a second thought. Possibly, but even so, they definitely don’t waste time on me with a third thought. And I’m actually not blaming all these people I’ve lost in my life because there have been LOTS, and what is the common denominator? Or rather, whom? Answer is simple. Me. I equal common denominator.

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I think I feel too intensely and describe too deeply and possibly even make others feel guilty about being overwhelmed with and by me. So, now they’re gone. Friends. Family. Even a first middle school aged boy that I liked – and who I believe liked me – even he and his wife won’t accept my friend request on Facebook. Really? And a friend of years has totally quit me. A friend since middle school and who was there for all the important wonderful new stuff, as well as the rough times, and vice versa.

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I think it’s the Bipolar and the intensity that comes along with it. Even though I’d never wish it on my worst enemy, I have often thought that if people could spend a week inside my mind, my body, they could sorta understand. But I can’t do that, obviously, so people seem to continue slipping away instead. I even fear the folks I have left will soon be gone. I’ve deleted my meetup groups. I don’t have it in me to make new friends, only to lose them. Damn. I’m exhausted. Just so tired of it. Actually, I’m just plain sad. Sad and broken hearted. 💔

14 Reasons in the Wrong Direction

I don’t even know what to type. Struggling tonight. I went outside to water the flowers I’m growing, and it hit me I might have to leave this home, and soon. I’m just sad. Not necessarily anxious, just sad. I know that when I began this blog, I said I would try to chronicle the ups and downs, depression and mania, as well as anxiety and occasional paranoia. So, I’m here. I’m chronicling. I’m talking. I just have nothing to say. I’m sad. I’m feeling the whole…”it’s not fair” gig. I’m trying my best to follow the 14 coping techniques I mentioned in the last entry, but honestly, right now I could write a whopping 114 reasons why I should give up. 114 reasons why life’s not fair. Look, I know these are feelings, not facts. I know I’ll get better. I know there are silver linings and that God has a plan. But speaking in truth, I’m just plain old sad right now. And even more honest… I’m somewhat angry.

Just keep swimming. What can I say? Dory is a smart fish.

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