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Thursday, July 25, 2013

In support of grief --one year down

I read this and found it eloquently spoke of the true nature of grief.

To everyone else, the death of that being you loved for his own sake, or her own sake, is an event that occurs on a certain day. For you the death only begins that day. It is not an event: it is only the first moment in a process that lives in you, springing up into the present, engulfing you years, decades, later as though it were the first moment again

I am going to continue to work through my loss but it will always be there. I can only help that it has made me more compassionate and to value people: especially the little ones whose lives I am the role model for.

I guess it is trying for normality that allows one to move forward. A tiny clip of time here or there when great pain receded for a bit. It is found in a child's laughter, a purring kitten, the fresh smell of line hung sheets, a wood stove that needs to be stoked it is in h these simple motions, I can find acceptance. I don't cry nearly as much, I blame noting on her that is going on my relationships-- I cannot be all things to all people but I can give it my best attempt. I have rethought everything though and that is painful. I cry. I cry, I CRY. . I research everything and understand the process at work. I repeatedly experience the first moment: "Heidi. Holly's GONE" but not nearly as often. Her headstone:

Daddy goes to the cemetary each Sunday after church, with his coffee, I wonder what they talk about. Could things have been different? I wonder..... He will never tell and I will never ask. This grief is an invisible cloak we wear at times. Some times I take it off but most of often it is resting on my shoulders rather than covering my whole being. The hood is off.

This is the start of healing, always remembering it will always be the first moment.

To Holly:
This is probably the last picture of you while you had breath. I wish I could see more into your eyes. The smile did not reach there:

Here is where I am supposed to relate when I want to figure out truly why. Was it really mental illness, undiagnosed, biological exacerbated by alcohol? More than 80 percent of suicides are due to misdiagnosed mental illness. Then I look at my genetic progeny and wonder if it will be any of them that I lose to this disease.

But here we are at the last step.
Finding acceptance may be just having more good days than bad ones. As we begin to live again and enjoy our life, we often feel that in doing so, we are betraying our loved one. We can never replace what has been lost, but we can make new connections, new meaningful relationships, new inter-dependencies. Instead of denying our feelings, we listen to our needs; we move, we change, we grow, we evolve. We may start to reach out to others and become involved in their lives. We invest in our friendships and in our relationship with ourselves. We begin to live again, but we cannot do so until we have given grief its time.


Monday, July 15, 2013

Helter.Skelter - Charles Manson Movie

Although not known as strictly a serial killer, Charles Manson was born "no name Maddox" in Cincinnati, Ohio to 16-year-old Kathleen Maddox. Kathleen was a young runaway who had fled home at the age of 15 and spent the next few decades drinking too much, with periods of time spent in jail- some arrests due to prostitution. Because of this, Charles or Manson was raised by a slew of over-religious family members, foster homes and reform schools- sexually assaulted as a child at the institutions that where in place to teach. By age nine, Charles Manson had already started stealing and soon added burglary and stealing cars to his repertoire. Charles was not wanted and reportedly sold to a bartender for a pitcher of beer. Tate's house is with these auspicious beginnings that Charles Mason was able to become a would be musician, charmer, manipulator and cult leader. During the summer of love, "when young people turn to drugs and flower power-- the advice was "tune in, turn on, and drop out"" it was in this enviornment a surprise charismatic Manson was able to attract young dropouts from all strata of white society.

As a mentor, father figure Manson considered himself God. He had "family" topping fifty member at it's peak. During this time Manson grew obsessed with death and the song Helter Skelter: He believed, according to former Family member, on New Year's Eve 1968: "Are you hip to what the Beatles are saying? Helter Skelter is coming down. The Beatles are telling it like it is." He believed that Beatles White Album advocated Revolution and that the blacks would rise up against the whites. It was with this logic that he was able to control the people under him. The house was one that a record producer spurned Manson had lived. Tate just happened to rent the doomed dwelling. When picking his victims for the start of the race riots When Manson sent his family to the Tate house, he told them to make it as gruesome as they could. The next night they killed the supermarket mongul, LaBiaca and his wife. I was this song that was written on the LaBianca's refrigerator. Both mass murders were supposed to blamed on the blacks so the riots would begin.

Nothing could be further from the truth of what Mason preached. His family members were raided ad Charles was charged with stolen Autos. People who knew them but were not part of the group reported confessions from Manson and Family members about the same time--November 12, 1969. Susan Atkins...a completely brainwashed follower was also arrested on unrelated charges. Susan bragged to her cell mate about the murders and even tasting the blood. Her room mate turned her in and the Mason "family" life was revealed slowly at first then it completely blew open. Manson was nonchalant over the killings bragging a few days after the Tate murders that "We knocked off five of them just the other night.". Family members bragged about lots of murders and the LAPD found a goldmine of information interviewing them, The "family" members were proud of doing Manson's bidding and would have the compunction to kill again. Being the mastermind and director of murderous activity put Manson on trial and a guilty verdict resulted. To this day he has been unstable and prophesizing in his own head. What is amazing in that people can be taking in by a cult and be transformed completely form college grad to killer. The art of pursuasion can kill.

When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide
Where I stop and I turn and I go for a ride
Till I get to the bottom and I see you again
Yeah yeah yeah hey

Do you, don't you want me to love you
I'm coming down fast but I'm miles above you
Tell me tell me tell me come on tell me the answer
Well you may be a lover but you ain't no dancer

Now helter skelter helter skelter
Helter skelter yeah

Will you, won't you want me to make you
I'm coming down fast but don't let me break you
Tell me tell me tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer

Look out helter skelter helter skelter
Helter skelter ooh

Look out, cos here she comes

When I get to the bottom I go back to the top of the slide
And I stop and I turn and I go for a ride
And I get to the bottom and I see you again
Yeah yeah yeah

Well do you, don't you want me to make you
I'm coming down fast but don't let me break you
Tell me tell me tell me the answer
You may be a lover but you ain't no dancer

Look out helter skelter helter skelter
Helter skelter

Look out helter skelter
She's coming down fast
Yes she is
Yes she is coming down fast

[My head is spinning, ooh...

Ha ha ha, ha ha ha, alright!

I got blisters on my fingers

Lyrics | Beatles lyrics - Helter Skelter lyrics

Sunday, July 14, 2013

What am I supposed to do with this mess?

Clever I am, or so I thought. But the mess that sits at my feet reminds me clever has had nothing to do with it. More like ignorant optimism that everything would work out. I have not stood for anything my entire life. Where have I really put my life on the line for anything? Consequently I am, yet again, awash in the sea of Despair. This allegory has been repeated and repeated, cyclical and redundant. Now that a year is gone, D thinks I should be fine. He doesn't realize where on the spectrum of fuck up I am sitting. What have I accomplished except screwing up a gaggle of children?

Why do I feel this way? Too much to divulge if I am to pretend. I am living in an intolerable situation with D claiming he is going to leave over and over. How can I move on when he is stalking me in my own home. I have no privacy, no space at all. I understand the despair that comes with taking one's life. The anxiety that must lead up to the act. I feel like I am reaching that point at times.

Friday, July 12, 2013

Alphaville - Forever Young ~Official Video

Why don't we stay young.

Youth like diamonds in the sun....and diamonds are forever young

And to all my friends that have already left this earth.  I wish H WAS'T WITH THEM!!!!!!

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

So very close: 1 year of grief

As I approach the one year anniversary of H's death, the anxiety that wakes me increases and I gasp from sleep to waking, catching my breath. I know not what clings to my dreams, only that the sense of loss is still so very prevalent in my life. I have been irrevocably changed--punctuated by repetition in every site I have visited in dealing with a loved one's suicide. I have been trying to work through the "what may well be the worst pain you will ever feel." ( There is no doubt that I miss H but the pain seems to be lessening. I have researched and commiserated, used biology to help explain how I am feeling. The memorial that surrounded me has slowly receded back into drawers and I no longer think about her every waking moment. There is no true closure but I have survived. On Friday-it will be one year at approximately 9:30 pm June 12th on a Thursday, one year ago, she left this earth. Her remains are mere ash but her memory is celebrated in every tear I cry. I miss you, baby sister.

What of my family? Each of us has been in our own private painful world trying our best to deal with this taboo. Suicide is not readily discussed and as often as I repeat what happened, I don't want to believe it. It makes no sense. I just need to read her journal, as sparse as it may be. Maybe so I can understand? Maybe for a release of any blame I place on myself?

According to

•See, you're really not going crazy!

•Many others have had to travel this hard road before you. You are not alone.

•Grief is a long-term process, and you will have good days and bad.

•There is hope-- brighter days lie ahead for you.

•You will never return to your pre-grief state, but you will eventually find joy in life in new ways that you invent.

•There really are no true "stages of grief" and no time frame for mourning. this second stage, you will come to a more orderly existence, but you will feel lonely and depressed, alternating with waves of intense grief. The "roller coaster ride" of grief. As long as your emotions are moving and changing, unpredictable, and "fluid", your grief is right on track.

Surrender to it, and let the grief take you where you need to go. Your grief is wiser than you.

This active grieving stage, suffering, lasts for months, and even intermittently for years. It is a normal and necessary part of grieving, and it is important not to avoid it, delay it, ignore it or suppress it. To the contrary, it is important that you experience it


New grief stages...

Many but not all who grieve start to see some improvement in their emotions after a year has passed. Acceptance and full recovery don't happen overnight. Your depression and despair will just slowly start to turn a corner and lighten up for you.

This stage is not the end of pain, but the ability to function with it and reconnect to the interesting and happy parts of life. Your great hurt will never be forgotten... it just recedes into the background of your life. Other more immediate demands will start to take precedence. Your son's soccer game will take on some importance for you once again.

And you may see ONE benefit from your grief experience... a new appreciation for the preciousness of life and a new-found ability to live life in the moment.

Here is where I Friday draws near.

"We find a place for what we lose. Although we know that after such a loss the acute stage of mourning will subside, we also know that we shall remain inconsolable and will never find a substitute. No matter what may fill the gap, even if it be filled completely, it nevertheless remains something else".
--- Sigmund Freud (1961)

"I'll cry with you,"
she whispered
"until we run out of tears.
Even if it's forever.
We'll do it together."

There it was . . . a simple
promise of connection.

The loving alliance of
grief and hope that
blesses both our breaking
apart and our coming
together again.

Molly Fumia, Safe Passage