Another day

Everyday I start here, to dump my grief so to speak. Then I try to go about my day and do normal things. Today I am here to dump anger. I am really angry with you, Zachary. You had no right to do this to us; especially on Christmas morning. You will never know how you have devastated us. What should have been a happy day turned to heartache so quickly. It hit like a freight train. The few hours you were missing were torture but having the answer turned out to be worse. You have always been so kind hearted and gentle. You wouldn’t even kill bugs for me, but catch them and take them outside. You could not stand the sight of our cats toying with their prey even though it is the natural life-cycle. It makes me angry that you did this horrible, unspeakable, cruel thing to “the girl”. How dare you?! If she lives to be 100, she will never get that image out of her mind. How could you do that to someone you say you loved so much? You said you were going to marry her! It isn’t fair that you are resting in the arms of Jesus while the rest of us are left here to mourn and “she” is left in torment from what “she” witnessed. It pisses me off to see your baby brother so hurt; your sisters all trying to hide thier grief and be brave. You forced us feel your absence and clean up the mess you left behind. Dying is only easy for the deceased person. I have to go through probate and close your bank accounts and try to have your student loans forgiven and a million other things. Though I will always love you, right now I just want to kick your ass! 


3 responses to “Another day

  1. I feel that way sometimes. I ask “How could you leave ME” and all the others that she loved and loved her. The thing is, when someone is severely depressed and suicidal they only want to end their pain, their mental pain. It’s like this quote I will paraphrase: For the suicidal, killing oneself is like someone jumping from a high rise building when it’s on fire and the flames are lapping at them. They don’t want to jump to their death no more than anyone else would, but it is the slightly less horrible of the two outcomes, so they jump. A severely depressed person sees their mental pain like those flames.

    But I know how you feel. It hurts so much. Trying to make sense of the senseless is hard.


    • You are correct about trying to make sense of the senseless. I feel my son’s suicide was an impulsive act during a very heated argument with his girlfriend. He was mentally ill and I know suicide was always on the back burner, sort of a Plan B. But I just don’t know what turned it into Plan A at 4:39am 12/25/13. I will never understand why he didn’t call me; I would have come to him. He still lived at home and it is hard not to blame myself for not knowing he didn’t come home that night. But he was 21 and I guess you just don’t wait up for them after they are grown-ups.


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