I forgot

Dedication to Nova, Fly with the stars you loved so much. If I am lucky we may one day meet again.

I forgot to be sad.

I forgot to cry.

I forgot to be mad.

Because I forgot why.

See a friend passed away two years ago but I forgot. Not her but the date that changed it all despite the fact that it still hits close to home and I remember her. Every fucking day I remember her.

But it is slowly fading.

Her smile

Her laugh

The voices she used to make

I remember but they are fading day by day.

So I wrote it on my calender so I could remember when to grieve. How long I should let myself cry and the hours that will have gone by.

Since I said my last goodbye.

Since I told her to be safe on her trip only for hours later she dies in a fucking car crash. She didn’t have a car and we joked about that. I made a comment about how when I was learning to drive I nearly ran over my moms foot cause I smash it when she said break.

We laughed

And reminisced

Made plans to get together and how we should talk more.

I made joke after joke about how we should talk more before ending it with

Have fun

Be safe!

To bad my words weren’t enough.

She told me she would but didn’t.

Whose to blame for this incompetence!

She was the same age as me you know. Life planned and precious goals.

I remembered the excited whispers to my daughter that next morning. Showing her pictures of a friend that was slowly dying.

No that is not right she was already dead and the plans I was so happy to tell my daughter would only come to completion in my head.

I wanted to reconnect with my friend.

But it is gone now because this year

I forgot to be sad

I forgot to cry

I forgot to be mad

Because I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.

Current event

I don’t want to do anything. Everything feels like to much of a hassle. Dulled compared to what it used to be. At least I think it did. Hard to tell what’s normal now. What used to be.

I think I was happy. Once

I think I smiled and liked to joke about horrible things. Things that made others pause and question my sanity. I know I giggled once when someone accused me of being a conservative. As though my ability to find humor in a horrible situation made it so I applauded the suffering of loved one. I do not know why I wasn’t insulted though.

But now. Things are different. Days blend into one another. They slowly become something I despise. These days and there repeating events, day in and day out. I think I am afraid of change but I remember a time when I welcomed it. Not with open arms but with open eyes. Recognized it as vital but now

Now I sit and bask in the glory that is nothing. At least, that is the more preferable lie.

I wish to be normal

Have I ever told you that there are days where I can not leave my room. I start to panic at the though of getting out of bed. That something underneath it will grab me or sometime horrible will happen if I sit out in the living room. Time and time again I have to convince myself that no one ia going to bust through my apartment door to shoot me. That every time I hear a car pull up it isn’t someone coming up to harm my daughter and I. It gets worse at night because I can hear and see everything. Someone is always watching. I can feel them breathing as I fall asleep. Some days, if I am not careful, they will even start to crawl there way up my body. During those times I find that I am unable to move. I can not make no sounds. It hurts so bad that I am often to afraid to to to sleep.

Through all of this I can not leave my home without talking myself into it first. There are days when I can walk out just fine and others when I can not even bring myself to unlock the door. I constantly make excuses not to leave, waiting until the very last moment before I go shopping. Even then, I will only go when I have someone else to take me.

I want to be normal. I hate fighting my mind for the privilege to be sane. Some days I feel as though I can do pretty much anything. Crowds don’t bother me as much though I still panic if I get to much attention. The other days I suffer and I am afraid to tell anyone about it. Instead I pretend to be normal. I make up excuses to why I can not leave. I joke with friends about how I am such a spazz and that is why I need them to take me to the store. I will spends hundreds on fast food because, while I can open the door, stepping outside if a different matter.

I want to be normal so much that I do not acknowledge the diagnosis my doctor gave me. I ignore the symptoms and play it off as me being a young mom. I lie and tell people I go places when I do not. I do not want them to worry. But they do it anyways.

I am far from normal and it hurts me every fucking day.

Screaming

I am afraid to vent

Cause you’ll grab a gun and your brain will splatter

And right in the same matter you’ll write

And repent

And ask me what I meant

As though it isn’t already to late

I lost a bet and you choice the date

To fuck it all up but blame me for the mistake

Because it is

A mistake

One that I am unable to accept as anything but my own

Cause your gone now

No one is home

All because I couldn’t vent

Couldn’t tell you what it all meant

When I would sign in pillow

Lie a little when you asked

grabbed a baseball bat to pass the time

As though all would be all right with a little fucking excessive exercise

It is my fault my mistakes my lost fate

That gave you a reason to choose that fucking date

Did you lose focus before you felt the beed to bleed

Leave me to grieve for things I can not see

I was already in pain so why the fuck did you leave

Did you think it will fix everything?

A repetition to the same problem

Now what am I suppose to do?

I can’t vent

Tell the world what I meant

Make them understand this mistake

For your sake

I am hope you are happy in that new place

Update

I am in college now. I figured things would be easy but I forgot just how depression works. Every encouraging word is met with a voice telling me that I am fucking up. How do I explain to people that what they say is nice but mt brain won’t let me except it.

My professor flagged my profile and talked about what a wonderful job I was doing. But I couldn’t…I couldn’t accept it.

I feel like such a failure. I do not have anyone I can talk about this with. Not to say I haven’t tried but everyone has their own problems to work through.

I want to self harm like crazy but I can’t. I don’t want my daughter disappointed in me. The urge is getting louder. I do not know how much time I have before I just give in or blow up.

Disappointed

I wanted to disappear from the minds of those who say they love me.

But I can’t seem to find the words.

I want them to hate me moments before they wipe their memory of me.

I need them to go away

But I can’t seem to make the effort to put it into place.

I want to go far away

I just want to disappear

But I can’t seem to find the ability

To turn themvall away.

Time is art

At the time, dying sounded like a good time. I had it all planned out. Every last detail to the minute to the hour. Everything was to be beautiful.

What I didn’t have planned was the sound of my daughter crying. Her heart breaking into a thousand pieces. Pieces I wasn’t there to pick up. My death was supposed to be beautiful. No one was suppose to feel sad just joy.

I wanted the world to be better. I didn’t account for the fact that my mother would lose the ability to speak. I figured she would be ok. But for the first time in her life I see her speechless with no sight of it returning.

My death, so lovingly planned. Everything perfect. Yet, my father, I have never heard him scream so loud. So long had I wanted to see some emotion but now I fear the sound will never end. His screams reach me in my coffin. I believe I will never forget the sound of my father bawling.