being public...

I know this is a public journal that I am humiliating myself by writing it. I exposing my self to ridicule. I also know that it is so unlikely that even those who can find this journal with a little ,,, 2 links away from my FaceBook page,  accessible to anyone who has friended me, that no one likely will.

Of course they might and then just pretend they didn't. That is harsher than being ridiculed.

Irony of Public

But actually, I think I realized after my children visited, and after they did not contact me, and today when I admit to myself that they will likely only rarely contact me and only briefly, that if I hope to survive, and if it is really true that I cannot pull this off on my own, then I need to expose myself and hope someone hears me.

I just went through my journal ... "My Obituary" which I started on April 1, 2008. I will incorporate all my entries into this blog, minimally editing for clarity and for typos. Some will be added to past posts as they are redundant or relate.

On April 1, 2008, I wrote:

It’s April 1st. I’m a joke. A fool. Hopeless. So, it’s fitting to start today. 

It’s too hard to live. I lack the courage to die. I can’t abandon my animals. I am too tired and it hurts so much. My only positive attribute is I am kind and that is not nearly enough.

It hurts to breathe.

I write this to find courage to live, to die, either would be better than this suffocating limbo of simply existing.

I suppose if I die, I want Kian and Christie to know I still love them and it has to be better with me dead than living with how I am.

I am so sorry for being how I am, for lacking the character to live.

Rewind 

Yes, this is the day I wrote Rewind. I don't often have the ability to place events accurately in time. I have no sense of time, no sense of direction, no ability to recall faces or names of people I know or just met. I suppose I enjoy abstraction so much because I feel at home.

On April 2nd I wrote very briefly.

4/2/08 2:22 am 

I am so sorry. I love you Kian. I love you Christie. 

I love my dogs my cat even my parents. I am so tired. I am weak, repugnant, where does kindness fit in there?