I have written since Madi was killed starting with her Obituary, but before I started my blog I would write these odd things like this. I would hand write back then, and I have piles of random papers everywhere with these types of things written on them…. these are somewhat hard for me to read, but I think one day I will appreciate having them.
Like a Bomb Hit Me
We are all so hurt, me, my kids, my parents, we are all so hurt. We can’t help each other, we don’t know how.
It’s the strangest kind of survival mode that ever existed. Inside your head are horrible, crazy, sad, desperate thoughts, these thoughts are so bad that you feel that you need to protect everyone from them.
The truth is I’m destroyed, it’s like a bomb hit me and I should be dead but I’m just here breathing and pretending. It’s turned into a constant game of make believe, the few moments when I have let my guard down have always been terrifying, when those moments happen I pretend to whoever witnessed them that they aren’t real, I say I’m tired or I haven’t slept, I say whatever I need to make them believe me, I’m afraid if they recognize that those moments are real they will go away, I can’t picture anyone wanting to be there participating in the reality of my life. I have gotten really good at saying what I have to, to make them stay.
I’ve become a liar; I have never been such a liar in my life, but only about myself.
With the rest of my life I have become brutally honest; it’s definitely a form of deflecting. I’ve become so honest and everyone is witnessing that, but my emotions, my fears, my general existence are all a complete lie.
I think I want someone to confront me, someone to tell me I am a liar and that they know the truth.
Someone will eventually have to make me stop, I need to be confronted to force all of the lies out, and it’s going to be like an exorcism, completely horrifying, completely exhausting