The past 2 weeks have been rather difficult. Since I broke my foot I’ve had a really, really hard time getting around. I’ve been so frustrated that I thought I might go nuts thanks to cabin fever. Anyway, enough about that… I’m sick of talking about/thinking about my foot.
I’m having a tough night tonight. My first cousin passed away a couple months ago and it is just now really starting to hit me. I went to her Facebook page (big mistake) and saw her pictures and where she had left me comments and such. I just broke down. I am never like this. I am not the emotional type but for the life of me I can’t calm down.
I feel like I let her down in a sense. We were never that close even though we were first cousins, but still I feel like I could have done something to prevent what happened to her. I should have text her and planned and evening out on the town like we talked about so many times. I should have text her and gotten her to go work out with me like we also talked about.
A few months ago I ran into her in town and she gave me her new phone number. I added it to my phone but forgot to delete her old one. I text her about a month before her death asking her to go with me shopping because I needed to pick up some stuff and thought she might like to get out since I knew she was having a hard time.
The idiot that I am, I text the wrong damn number. I wondered why I never got a response and it was because I SCREWED UP. Maybe if I hadn’t and we would have hung out then she and I could have made more future plans to get together. Maybe she would have come to me when she had her breakdown and left home. She even through out the suggestion of coming to live with me and my mother a while back, but I did not take her seriously. I mean, I told her to talk to Mom but that I was sure she wouldn’t mind since we have the room, but I never mentioned it to her again.
I made no effort whatsoever.
And now I feel like a gigantic piece of shit.
I loved her. And I still do. It hurts me knowing that she is no longer here. I didn’t get to say good bye to her. I don’t even know if I remember the last specific time we spoke other than her giving me her new number.
When I had Bell’s Palsy, who text me daily to check on me. She did.
I never text her to check on her and I knew she was having problems. (Drug withdrawal related).
I’ve never associated with stuff like that and I was not sure how to go about it and that is where I ultimately fucked up.
If I could talk to her one last time I would tell her how sorry I was for letting her down. There will not be a day that passes that I don’t feel guilty. I know what happened to her was not directly my fault but I just feel like I could have been around more so that it all could have been avoided. Seeing her family in so much pain hurts me as well. I know there is always going to be pain that comes along with death, that’s the normal reaction. I know we are supposed to be relieved when our love ones pass on because that means they are in Heaven and no longer suffering but it is just so hard.
She was only 27-years-old.
She never got the chance to get married.
She never got to have children with long dark curly hair like hers.
She never got to say goodbye.
I really don’t know where else to go with this. I think I have said all that I need to say at this point, but I still don’t feel any better.
I love you Alicia and I always will.
Rest in Peace.
My brother’s being an asshole and won’t pick up a birthday cake for Dad. Looks like I’m about to attempt to make him a cake myself if I have all the stuff. Really not sure how I am going to pull this off.
Wish me luck.
So, yesterday I started watching Season 1 of Dexter.
Today I finished watching Season 1 of Dexter.
(Why not start watching a new show since I am condemned to this damn couch for who knows how long.)
Honestly, I can’t believe I put off watching this show for so long. I had heard it was good, but I never actually took the time to watch it until now. Even though it’s royally fucked up at times, all in all, I really like it. (The fact that Dexter is hot is a definite plus also.. who cares if he’s a serial killer. JOKING.) I like the whole “vigilante serial killer” thing. I wasn’t sure it would work, but it does.
I finally got out of the house today. Jared picked me up and we went to stay at his place for a few hours. It was a nice change of scenery. Too bad I am still on crutches. Maybe tomorrow will be the day I’ll get to kick them? Maybe the next day? Hell, I would be semi-okay with having them the rest of the week as long as I can walk by the weekend.
I feel so damn helpless
I am a very independent person and having to have people fix my food/drinks, carry stuff for me, get my outfits together, drive, etc., is really starting to annoy shit out of me.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than grateful for the help, but I just prefer to do things for myself. Enough self pity for now. (I hate when people feel sorry for themselves. I don’t necessarily ‘feel sorry’ for myself, I’m just frustrated with my current situation.)
It’s time to get back to Dexter now.
But before I go, I would like to through a big HAPPY BIRTHDAY out there to my dad today. Considering I can’t drive or stand for long periods of time, I won’t be able to drive to see him or bake him a cake this year. I’m really hoping he either comes by my house tomorrow, otherwise Jared and I will be making a trip to GC.
I have an amazing daddy. (AND mom). Without them I honestly don’t know where I would be today. They are honestly just about the best parents you could ask for. They’ve never drank or smoked. (At least not since us kids were born.) And they have always done everything in their power to provide for me, my brother, and my sisters. I must say, I am EXTREMELY blessed.
So long for now.
So here I am, sitting on the couch upstairs, alone while watching Dexter. (I have been forbidden to attempt the 18 step descension into the basement, where I live, until at least tomorrow.) I’m thirsty but keep putting off having to get up and get something to drink because I hate these damn crutches. I finally give him and hop my way into the kitchen and then realize I forgot my glass on the end table. I get another glass and then, after a few complications, manage to pour myself something to drink without spilling it.
That’s when it hits me. How the fuck am I going to get my glass back into the living room with me? My hands/arms are all tied up with the damn crutches! I tried to grip the top of the glass with my neck but trust me, that DID NOT work. By this point, my left leg is getting tired so I chug the drink, use my crutch to flip the light off, and hobble back into the living room before collapsing on the couch.
Guess what happens next?
I have to pee.
(joking… but really. Can’t I catch a break?!)