I'm numb
He’s dead.
Merrick is dead.
It’s a fucking death year. I don't want it. No more! No.
I saw him at Christmas. He came from Slovakia to visit over the holidays.
Sunshine told me a few hours ago over msn. "He's dead." A million miles away in Slovakia our friend is dead. The End.
I don’t know what to say. I can’t feel anything. So fucking numb. I knew. I knew he was dying and now he’s dead. Been there. done that. I watched a friend die. They’re all so surprised, so shocked. I’m not. I knew. And now he’s dead. Weird.
I’m numb. I can’t cry. I won’t cry. I won’t cry until I feel safe, safe enough to be vulnerable. I won’t cry until a man I trust wraps me in his arms and takes away the pressure of control. It could be a while. I have to take care of everything. I have to be strong. I have to… breathe. It’s not the worst week of my life—not by a long shot but it still fucking sucks.
I’m numb.
I just want to focus on the manageable stuff. I want to think about boys and crushes and possibilities. Maybe I could just be vulnerable. Maybe I could let myself care. I don’t even know what I’m scared of… a fucking broken heart? What’s so terrible about a broken heart? I know it’s not worse than this. It’s not worse than this fucking helpless numb overload. I’m so stressed and worried. My family is in crisis and I’m scared. The burden of responsibility and powerless frustration fucking sucks. I can’t deal with any more. I’m maxed out. I’m done.
My friend is dead. I can’t sleep. I want to sleep.
Merrick is dead.
It’s a fucking death year. I don't want it. No more! No.
I saw him at Christmas. He came from Slovakia to visit over the holidays.
Sunshine told me a few hours ago over msn. "He's dead." A million miles away in Slovakia our friend is dead. The End.
I don’t know what to say. I can’t feel anything. So fucking numb. I knew. I knew he was dying and now he’s dead. Been there. done that. I watched a friend die. They’re all so surprised, so shocked. I’m not. I knew. And now he’s dead. Weird.
I’m numb. I can’t cry. I won’t cry. I won’t cry until I feel safe, safe enough to be vulnerable. I won’t cry until a man I trust wraps me in his arms and takes away the pressure of control. It could be a while. I have to take care of everything. I have to be strong. I have to… breathe. It’s not the worst week of my life—not by a long shot but it still fucking sucks.
I’m numb.
I just want to focus on the manageable stuff. I want to think about boys and crushes and possibilities. Maybe I could just be vulnerable. Maybe I could let myself care. I don’t even know what I’m scared of… a fucking broken heart? What’s so terrible about a broken heart? I know it’s not worse than this. It’s not worse than this fucking helpless numb overload. I’m so stressed and worried. My family is in crisis and I’m scared. The burden of responsibility and powerless frustration fucking sucks. I can’t deal with any more. I’m maxed out. I’m done.
My friend is dead. I can’t sleep. I want to sleep.
Labels: life
3 Comments:
At 12:56 AM, Anonymous said…
I'm sorry for your loss.
At 7:47 PM, Kate said…
Doesnt feel like it right now, but you're lucky !
to have loved and cared for someone and been loved and cared for. Its a rare thing, taken from us at any time... enjoy what you have as you have it and hold it close until it passes from you.
And when all is done, and people become shadows, remember the intensity of the light in their life. When we have no light of our own, we become like the moon, but friendship burns like the sun.
Ive been away from your blog for awhile. I have so much to catch up on, Katie
At 6:09 AM, Anonymous said…
Emotional Amnesia, I call it, strikes here and there; sometimes after being forced to be detached for a while longer than expected to finish a task.
Best
Gölök Zoltán Leenderdt Franco Buday, Coated In Black. Have Gun Grabbers, Live In Canada.
"Liberty is not collective, it is personal. All liberty is individual liberty." -- Calvin Coolidge (1873-1933), 30th US President
Source: Speech, 1924
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