I think I have a dream…

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I have been stuck, some of what’s below will not make sense date wise because I have had issues getting thoughts out of my head and onto my blog.

I started writing this two days ago, but then we had the hearing yesterday and it stalled me a bit.  I have a smart#@s post I want to write, but after much debating in my own head I decided to finish writing about the good and save the bad for sometime in the very near future.  I think it’s more acceptable to go from bad to good then it is to go from good to bad.  Maybe?  I think so anyways….

I am so over doing meaningless work for unappreciative fickle non-deserving bullies who have no loyalty.  There I said it.  Seriously though after going through hell you see things so differently.  I had heard people say this same thing over and over to me throughout my life.  I thought I got what they were saying, but I didn’t.  When you have dealt with your worst nightmare and had to accept your biggest fear as a reality you can’t possibly care about people who have no heart.  I don’t care about those people, those people are Monster’s.  They are also the type of people who would offer no apologies after ruining your life and then they would apologize because you are no longer a threat and it made them look good.  I don’t want to do this anymore. I need to do something that I care about, it’s what keeps me going.  So if I can figure out a way to do only  or even mostly what matters I believe my level of strength could be insane.

I have always had close relationships with my aunts.   I have always appreciated their support.  I don’t know how they do it, but they always know how to say what I need to hear.  Often it’s what is already in my head and somehow they end up saying my thoughts.  Lately has been no different.

Going through this fight I have learned a lot.  Part of what I have learned is people are not going to swoop in and help you.  People can’t read your mind.  People don’t know the answers either and they don’t know that you even need help.   They also don’t know how to help you.  This has definitely put me to the test, and I think I have figured out what I want and what I need.

I struggle talking about the hours and days right after the crash.  I have since then developed a new expertise.  This skill that has come on like a sixth sense is knowing when someone is being a fake.  It’s not always due to bad intentions that people are not sincere, sometimes they just don’t know what to say.  From this realization I now know that I can’t help myself or anyone else if I can’t be honest.  But honesty is harder than it sounds; Why? Because sometimes our dishonesty is only because we don’t want to burden others with our painful reality.

Last week I shared something I wrote earlier this year, I referred to feeling like I was hit by a bomb, but still breathing, I want to attempt to explain that as honestly as I can, there is a very important reason for me to do this.

Within a few hours the shock sets in, not the reality, the shock.  You are the most confused you have ever been in your life.  Your body is doing weird things too.  You are drained, but wide awake.  People are calling, texting, messaging you.  This is also overwhelming and you don’t know what to say.  What can you say?  You are shaking and jittery; and I have never researched this or anything, but you can’t quit peeing (I warned there would be honesty).  Zoey and I both had this odd physiological occurrence, I even had one of my besties there to witness this. It’s completely true and it’s completely insane.  You feel like you should be doing something, like literally doing something.  It would be completely ridiculous if you were to do something so you just sit there and acknowledge to yourself the weirdness of it all.

Do you know what we did all day?  We sat there, we looked at Facebook, we reached out to Tyler’s mom once we had his name.  We actually were ridiculous enough to be worried about work and how long we would have to be out.  And the most extremely odd thing we did…. We watched, listened, and were comforted by having Family Guy on all day, in fact it was on non-stop in our house for days and days.

The media was calling and calling, they also called anyone they could find that was related to me.  I knew that they were doing their job and I also knew that we needed them, but I could not handle this.  I was lucky to have supportive family and friends and Lee wrote a statement for the family so that the phone calls could momentarily stop.

The following morning after drugging myself to sleep we went to breakfast with Madi’s Dad and his family (awkward) to start making funeral arrangements.  By now you are seeing how differently people are handling things.  Some of us are in shock, some of us are sharing stories and some of us are crying whenever someone says absolutely anything whatsoever (this was neither Zoey or myself).  I am not saying anyone is handling things wrong, I am only stating none of us are handling or reacting to things in the same way as each other.

This same day we are called to the County attorneys office.  Still in shock we meet the prosecutor as well as some of the other family who  will be tied to us from here on out.  For myself, I can say none of this is making sense;  how is this the way things are?  A very reassuring, confident prosecutor is introduced and I don’t know what anything he said meant.

The detective that came to my house at 3am the previous day is also there, he isn’t like the prosecutor and the rest of that offices staff.  The detective seems to be like the rest of us (he looks like he was hit by a bomb, but still breathing).  We are being handed all of these strange packets.  We are being told details very quickly and none of us at that time had the capacity of understanding what they meant.  We were all rushing and needed to get to the balloon release.

The next day is Saturday and we are making arrangements.  This is the first sign of how things are going to be.  During times like this you don’t care who you make angry, well I didn’t seem to anyways.  I was using my self given funeral planning veto button with a fury.

This is an example of how the talks were going with the funeral director while he was asking me and Madi’s Dad questions about the services.  “Do you want an organist? Yes. Nope vetoed!  Do you want someone from your church to come officiate? “Yes I can have the Priest from my church.  Nope vetoed! Do you want this? Do you want that?  Yes. Yes. Nope. Nope. Vetoed. Vetoed.”  I am President of the funeral planning committee and I am a micromanager so shush!

I picked the speakers at the service, I got my friend to play the music, Zoey picked the pictures, Zoey picked the music for the slide show.  Zoey and I picked Madi’s clothes, we ran around for days and days taking care of every possible detail .  We would start out at 8:00 am and not be done until 9:30-10:00 PM at night.  I found these flowers that I had to have (Ours had Madi pictures not random Wedding pictures).

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I was completely irrational and on some kind of mission.  Zoey was right by my side and no I didn’t force her.  We ran and we ran and we ran.  People would try to help.  People would try to tell us we needed to slow down and stop for a minute, but we could not.  I honestly knew I was screwed once the funeral was over, I knew when it was over I would have to stop.

When the stopping point hit I was exhausted and destroyed.  It was reality check time if I liked it or not.

There is this horrible thing that happens when something tragic hits you; that thing is  you quit sleeping.  I have always had issues sleeping, but not like this.  The reason being is that there’s a moment when you wake up where you don’t remember what happened.  You don’t remember that she’s gone, for a tiny moment you don’t know that she is gone and when you remember it stops your heart for a second or two.  I still have those moments, I hate those moments.  I would rather not sleep and deal with the repercussions of that than to have to deal with the excruciating pain of that moment.

At that time I had to deal with things and people who I was not equipped to handle.  I couldn’t understand what anyone was telling me.  No one explained things to me.

When I asked questions it would just cause more problems.  I had to believe in the Prosecutor and his team because I was not equipped to know how to respond or address them,  and quite frankly they didn’t explain anything to me.

I had to deal with lawyers who didn’t live up to what they had sold me on, not even close.

I had papers and papers and papers that needed to be filled out by this person and that person and those people.  But I couldn’t get this filled out without that, and this person couldn’t fill this out because they need this person or that person to do this form first.

I needed a psychiatrist to fill out my FMLA paperwork.  I needed a psychiatrist to fill out my short term disability paperwork.  Psychiatrists incase anyone ever needs to know are very hard to come by and you are going to wait and wait to get an appointment.  I went in late July to fill out the paperwork that needed to be done prior to scheduling an appointment with the desperately needed psychiatrist.  The first available appointment they had was the end of October.  My FMLA would be up on October 7, but I needed that paperwork filled out for approval.  I also had no paycheck coming in and needed my (self paid) short-term disability payments.  It’s not that I didn’t try to go back to work, because I did and didn’t make it through even a half a day.  I was lucky enough to find a doctor to help me one month at a time until I could get into where I needed to be, but if I hadn’t I would have possibly not had a job, I would have been waiting 4 months for medications and I would have not had any income coming in.  Think about that, I just had my daughter murdered and I am out there on my own jumping through hoops just to survive.

I had a terrible full-blown panic attack right in the middle of a busy intersection.  I was lucky that my friend Gena was with me at that moment, I don’t honestly know what would have happened if she hadn’t been.  How do they expect people to handle these things?  I am not saying I am Einstein or anything, but I am a fairly smart girl, and I could not figure out what anything was and why it had to be all of these certain ways. These piles of paperwork were like a foreign language to me and no one explained a thing.  They just kept throwing more papers at me and if I was lucky they would highlight a section that was apparently supposed to be the equivalant of a secret decodor ring and solve all of the puzzles for me.  Everywhere I went (with the exception of the doctor that did help me) the people working  would look at me completely unaffected by what I was telling them.  Talk about feeling less than zero, that will definitely do it to you.

This information that I have shared as many of you know is just the beginning of my struggle, turned fight.  I am still fighting, I will always fight.

I know I have been all over the place on this and I hope I can somewhat tie it all together,  “all”  being what I have shared and also what I need in order to be as whole as possible again.  I need to tie together three things; my aunts and their support; the horrible system set into place for devastated people to maneuver on their own; and the most horrible part, dealing with grief.

If I can figure out a way to make this nightmare  into something that can stop this hoop jumping for someone else then I need to do that.  If I can do this I can find a purpose.  I can be positive and hopeful.  I don’t want what happened to us to happen to anyone else, not even my worst enemy.

My aunts on both sides keep telling me how proud they are of me and that I need to be an advocate.  They have watched my struggle and my fight.  They have seen me be strong and resourceful to get what I need.

My intentions are to start a Nonprofit in Weber and Davis Counties for Homicide Victims.  I don’t know how to do this, but I am working as hard as I can on it and already have some help .

There is one in Salt Lake that was started by various Salt Lake Valley Police departments  https://www.slvef.org/ (click on link provided below this paragraph) .  There is also one I found in Arizona while researching the same type of Nonprofits as I hope to be a part of.  This one is almost exactly what I envision except I had a few additional  ideas.  https://azhomicidesurvivors.org/ (click on link provided below this paragraph).  I would like to get the various police departments involved in order to get our information into the hands of the people who need it and also to have someone to evaluate the situations to see if our help would be a good match for the needs of the victims they are responding and reacting to on the frontline.

Salt Lake Valley Emergency Fund – Home

Salt Lake Valley Emergency Fund, Salt Lake City

Home

Advocacy – Support – Assistance

I want to provide immediate help to victims or as soon as they feel they need it.  I want to stick with them through this process and help them find the answers to any questions or concerns that come about for them.  I don’t want anyone to feel that desperate and somewhat degrading way that I felt, I don’t want them to give up.

I have honestly learned so much just from what I have been through.  I am not close to knowing everything, but I will learn and document as I go.  I will dig deep and not stop until the answers I am being given make sense.  I also want to start some kind of sponsor program.  Kind of like AA has, but with homicide victims.  I know when I have spoken to parents who have gone through the same thing  prior to Madi being killed they were a huge inspiration to me.  There is one in particular that I can’t name right now only because she was  pretty visible and vocal during her daughter’s death and I have not had a chance to talk to her since November 2016.  This lady told me exactly the right things, but at the time I thought I would ruin the case and everything else if I started screaming about what was going on (which was that nothing was going on).   She told me ” start talking now and start talking loud, talk to anyone that will listen”.  I feel like even though I did not listen to her she would have supported me no matter what.  I feel the same way about others going through the same thing.  I can tell them my thoughts, but I respect that this is their fight and this is the most personal fight of them all.

So I am putting this out into the Universe, which is a big scary leap of faith.


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