As I sit and drink my morning cup of joe, Tool's haunting melodies streaming through my speakers as 'Stinkfist' trickles through the air and transitions over to Soundgarden's 'Spoonman', I find myself feeling a bit lighter...a bit more like the young woman I started out to be so many years ago now it seems. I needed a change...desperate to find some kind of footing along the cracked walls of an abyss I was not ready to be swallowed by. I clawed and growled, somehow managing to find just enough strength to begin pulling myself back from a place that wanted to devour me. A living darkness I've known all my life, a secret demon that has taken a piece of me at a time... I think it's had enough.
-Smiles as Godsmack's'Forgive Me' starts thundering through the speakers- Torn between despair and absolute hatred, I had to find that small fragment of light left inside of me before I gave in to that blackness. I took a pair of scissors, found a comb and just started cutting. I created bangs/fringe and began layering the rest of my unruly hair. I didn't take off much, but the hair in the trash looks as though it might start chittering and scampering around the room for food -chuckles- Afterwards I did my old signature 'Nancy' smoky eyes (The Craft) and actually put on some lipstick (which most of you know I try to avoid pretty much whenever I can). But what really did it, was the way I felt when I saw myself through a picture on my phone. I see such a difference and it has nothing to do with the new look. There's something new in my eyes...a glow of something familiar hiding just behind my gaze. There's an intensity there looking back at me, as if something finally surfaced... ...and it feels Good. So I figured I'd edit it just slightly and post it onto the FaceDesk so everyone could see. I was not expecting the response I received when I checked later on. Seriously, I am incredibly humbled and touched by all the warmth I read in the comments. As I read them, I was turning a very lovely shade of red that matches my hair -chuckles- Yes, I definitely needed a change. Instead of chopping all of my hair off and dying it blue-black, I opted for slight alteration, that way it's not such a harsh transition. And enough of that topic...lol -chuckles and takes a drink of her coffee- Something recently has caught my attention, namely in the Supernatural Fandom. It was on Instagram that I noticed a Rant by a Teenage Fangirl of the show, going off about Jensen being Homophobic. This literally made me Stop and just Blink. From what I gathered through her rant, is that Jensen blatantly dismissed a fan for saying that she was Bisexual before she got a chance to ask her question. That because of his dismissal, she was found later on in the convention, crying. So I did me some research. I found out, that 18yearold fangirl so-and-so, had the first question, and it was going to be one about what some of the crazier (YOUNG) fans call 'Destial' (Dean/Castiel) and just so you know, whenever it's brought up at Cons, it's just as bad as Wincest (Sam/Dean...ya, don't ask) and you can HEAR most of the Fans/Audience groan in annoyance. It pisses most of us off, honestly. To each their own, but there's a time and place for that kind of topic, and Misha has no problem talking about it with the fans, but most of us know that it bothers Jensen and Jared (more so Jensen because he's more reserved and shy about those kind of questions, and they make him uncomfortable because they've been brought up So Damned much). The rant honestly made it seem like Jensen was acting like a total dick. So I found the video.
I'll leave it up to you to decide whether or not he was a 'Complete Asshole' for his response. Personally, he reacted the way I have in the past when I've been annoyed about being asked about something I didn't feel like talking about. He wasn't being completely disrespectful, but given the situation... You can hear the audience's shared annoyance, and poor Jared tried to soften the awkwardness of it. You can also notice that Jensen didn't mean to come off the way he had. He didn't want to snap at the poor girl and decided to just skip it altogether. That entire moment was just...shit no-matter which way you go about it. But you can also tell that by their body language, they were already tense to begin with. Not like what I experienced at VegasCon earlier this year. The energy was Waaay different. Bad timing all around. Now here's a little rant for ya about the Younger viewers of Supernatural. Some of the Instagram fan accounts for the show, flipped their shit after seeing Season 9's finale. I won't give anything away (it was damned epic episode) but it was pretty intense. I literally stopped breathing at one point (and thank the gods for fast-forward or I would've passed out) and my jaw was agape... It was very reminiscent of Kripke's old whammies. I can get the overwhelming emotions it stirred up in the fans, especially pre-pubic, hormonally-dysfunctional teenagers that over-use the phrazes, "Too Much Feels!" "YOLO" "Mom Doesn't Understand Me!" and so on... -gives a smug grin- I'm asshole, I know ;) A day or so passes, and most of us have had time to ingest what it was that we saw and are now functioning at our normal capacities. Or so I thought. I go onto Instagram...and fangirl/teenager (the same one who ranted about Jensen) is just going off about how she's sooo depressed and she can't get through her day because she just can't handle what happened. I twitched. But I let it go. Two days later, she's STILL going on and on about how she's been so depressed, she hasn't been able to sleep and she doesn't know how she'll keep going because this is the worst thing in her entire life...
I literally had to physically Stop myself from letting myself type out what was roaring through my mind. Mind you, my Father has just slipped away barely a week when I'm reading this... It was bad enough that while I watched the episode, all I could think of is how badly I wanted to talk to Dad about it, that he was missing this... It was Our show. Something that we watched together, even if I wasn't at home at the time. That was Special to us. It's still special to me. So watching it alone... -pauses as her chest tightens painfully, her spine aches and tears threaten to spill from her tired eyes- I was soo tempted to put that 'Child' in her place. I was so ready to give her a Real Reason for feeling like shit. I could have told her to shut her fucking mouth and stop being a goddamned child. It's a Fucking Show. Life doesn't stop because you're having a god damned pitty party. Awe, poor baby can't handle FICTIONAL Characters going through traumatic events. You know what's worth being upset about? Losing your childhood home and everything you've ever known to try to save your Father's life, getting an hour maybe less of sleep over the period of several days because you're trying to take care of him as he's getting worse, weaker and is showing signs of dementia. Having to bite your tongue when he cusses you out, growls at you and balls his fist like he's going to hit you because he doesn't want to listen. You choke on your chest pains because you know he's sick and can't help it. You can feel his body starting to shut down and that god damned shadow is getting closer no matter how much you've tried to make it go away. To finally get him medical help and have him Mentally and Emotionally come back to you... To be able to sit and Watch reruns of Supernatural again... To think maybe he's actually going to get better... To get a phone call on Mother's Day that he's not responsive and could go at any time... To have him Wake Up miraculously the next day...and the next day he seems even more there. To kissing his forehead, touching his hand as he was falling back asleep due to the morphine and saying, "Laku Noc" (Said; Lock-oh-no-tch. Which means Goodnight in Croatian) and hearing him say it back as he closed his eyes... Only to find out the next day that he Died five minutes before I called. Ya, I could've torn into her and caused her to need years of psychotherapy... But I didn't. Instead I let the tears stream down my face in silence and put my phone down.
Kudos to me for having restraint. -shakes her head and wipes the offensive emotions from her eyes- ...on that happy note... I need a cigarette. -Anon-
Thoughts, emotions...swirling and twisting without rhyme or reason. I want to get away from them, struggling to find my strength when I'm carried off on a riptide of internal chaos, forcing me to wade hopelessly through memories that seem to be pulling me down into a world from which there is no escape. I'm so very lost. I try to make sense of the things dancing through me. The moments of being so incredibly numb with feeling. Within the blink of an eye, as though a switch has been blown and the tears sweep down my face in a tsunami of anguish. I choke and growl, wanting so desperately to find my way back through the fog of pain surging through me. I just want to be normal... *sighs and takes a hefty drink of her coffee from her Nightmare Before Christmas Thermos* My life has been gutted open, crimson streams of yesterdays bleeding into the earth as the heart fights to find some kind of peace again. This won't stop any time soon. It'll fester and weep, the brutal truth of living in a world of such a short existence. It can all be gone within an instant. As Dad would say, "Life happens when you're planning something else." Can't be still. There's nowhere to go but forward, even if I feel as though my feet have been chained to cinder blocks. So very heavy as I drag what's left of myself down that broken path. Yet another crossroad...but this time there is only one way to go.
* * * * *
*scoffs and shakes her head* Gotta love chaotic poeticism when half-asleep. Change of subject, shall we? There has been something I've been thinking about lately, a distraction from the agony of my emotional state. Due to a series of unfortunate events in my life, I was unaware of the shooting that took place recently (gotta love FaceDesk for information streaming like backyard gossip in an old village) and then all the stories that followed. Articles that took hold of my attention and brought old fears and memories to the surface. Topics on Misogyny and Rape Culture. Then the Hashtag of YesAllWomen. This was all a little overwhelming at first (seeing as my mind has been elsewhere) and I let it all sink in. Then I start reading posts; from female friends who decided to share their stories/life experiences. As I read, I found myself becoming more and more motivated to write down my own experiences. As a female, you're taught Very Young to be aware of your surroundings and of strangers. Especially Male Strangers. My Father taught me to say no and if that didn't work and I was grabbed, to Bite down as hard as I could, to kick, to scratch and to scream as loudly as possible as I booked it in the other direction. I was fortunate enough to never have to do any of this. I also noticed that when I was 10, I was heftier than other children my age...but I was also stronger. I also noticed the bullies were actually afraid of me... So I took advantage of my weight as a warning; touch me and I'll sit on you. In kidspeak that was pretty scary *chuckles* As I started to mature, I was just grasping the concept of being comfortable in my own skin. I was never much for girly attire; skirts, dresses, low cut tops, heels. I was a Jeans, long sleeved shirt, boots, trenchcoat kinda girl. The more covered, the better. I had always been like that. So the one time I decided to step out of my comfort zone at 16 years old... I remember all the compliments I got from a few peers who had seen me out and about. I was wearing a long wrap around skirt over a pair of panty hose, a form fitting tank top, heels, and make up that didn't consist of racoon eyes lol. I was soft and pretty...which at first I was starting to enjoy. Unfortunately, the first time I try to be more feminine... I learned that saying 'No' to a guy who's much larger and stronger than you... No matter how many times you've explained that you're a Virgin and not ready, that you've had too much to drink and you don't feel comfortable... I said No in so many different ways, Verbally, and Physically... Psychologically I told myself that I was a victim for the way I'd dressed. I had invited it. I had gotten drunk and was stupid enough to think my wishes would be respected. Even though I'd said No. It was My Fault. People wondered why I'd always been so dark, why I had mostly male friends and never dressed up all that much... *smirks and takes a drink of her coffee* One thing I always found fascinating, was as I grew more comfortable with myself, many male friends told me I was intimidating and I didn't know why. I was grateful for it, because that kept predators away. Even though I'm 30 years old, I still hold my head up high, shoulders back and eyes forward whenever I'm out and by myself. I can feel eyes on me but I'm one of those people who will turn and make eye contact. Like clockwork, 9 times out of 10, the person tends to blanch and takes a step back. If you're ballsy enough to stare at me, be prepared to get glared at. I know there's something in my eyes that makes people uncomfortable. It's a challenge. I don't trust people and it's my way of gauging just how confident they think they are. I've got no problem standing my ground. I've been fortunate enough that most men won't approach me. Even when I've made eye contact and smile, they smile back but seem nervous. I've heard more than a few men stammer when I've actually smiled and said hello. There's definitely allot more I can write about... That statistically, females are 'taken advantage of' by men they know. I can vouch for this. But again, I was young... Barely 19 yet and the person I was with had manipulated me into thinking I was worthless because I wasn't a Virgin. That I had nothing to 'Give Him'... Don't worry, the Universe has a way of working things out. And he got back ten fold of what he did to me.
My heart hurts when I read stories of beautiful friends who've been chased down, followed in parking lots, stalked in restaurants and that to them, there was no such thing as 'No', 'Not Interested', 'I have a Boyfriend' etc. I can relate to a degree. But like I've said, I learned early on that I can use my Weight and Strength as an advantage even if my opponent can easily overpower me. I'm about 5 feet and 6 and a half inches tall and teeter between 156-174 but I'm in better shape than I've ever been. I have a fairly dense frame, a strong back, a barrel chest, and I have a big ass and thick thighs for a reason. I'm also graceful and agile...and tend to Hulk out if I get very angry. Let me put it this way... I could push my 2 ton Ellie easily and that was Before I got back into shape. Imagine what I could do now and if I lost my temper. *smirks* I just give off this vibe of, "I'm not in the mood so do me a favor and back off. I'm not afraid of you and I will defend myself." Having that playing in my head and feeling confident in my own skin when I'm out, tends to weed out would-be attackers. Sure I get the occasional crazy person, but they're harmless. It's all how you respond. I'm generally very sweet and agree with whatever insane statement they're making. I can sense they're not workin' with a full deck and their words just aren't working right. It also helps that I'm a reader and can actually say what they're trying to say. They don't bother me. But I digress... I need me some more coffee, another smoke, and I really need to buy my boys more litter because geezuss someone's fuzzy ass exploded *laughs* I'll make a point to write more on this subject later ;)
Weird dreams trickle behind these weary eyes as I struggle to wake up by drinking as much coffee as possible. I'm not looking forward to my day... I have to drive to Highland to make arrangements to get Dad cremated... That's a helluva shock for my brain, but I'm still thrumming with that strange numbness. As though I'm not going to fall apart because I still have things I need to do. I'm already stressed out enough as it is. I will be very broke afterward and have no idea how I'm going to afford keeping my phone on, let alone put gas in the tank of my car. Little things, when in a horde like fashion, can feel like a catastrophe of unwanted events that make it hard to breathe let alone think straight.
And I was hoping to have something happier to write about today. *sighs and shakes her head*
I'm trying to be lighter about things, trying to let myself Feel whatever I'm supposed to Feel...and yet I'm still numb in a sense. It's as though it's bracing me for the ache that's been growing in my chest that's been causing my throat to tighten up and my breath to hitch when I think about just speaking to him not that long ago... I know I have an overwhelming amount of love and support, and I can never convey how grateful I am to All Of You. But right now, this very moment... I am very much alone and I've gotta just deal with it and get things done. I don't have the luxury of falling apart. I hate how much this really does hurt me, how needy it's made me (which explains my silence)... How desperately I don't want to be alone, that I need to be around loved ones, my dearest friends. But I don't want to seem weak and needy. I hate feeling this horrid vulnerability. The inner child wants so badly to be held, needing reassurance through the warmth of another's touch... But what good will that do me? Wailing, 'Poor Me' and feeling sorry for myself won't get shit done. So what if I yearn for physical touch? There are others who have either been, or currently going through what I am and may not have that luxury. If they can get through it, then I sure as hell can. I can hear my own anger as I type these words. I know I'm convincing myself that I can get by without asking for help. Hard-headed and stubborn is putting it lightly. Faire was a blessing... I was able to get the physical contact I so desperately craved without seeming like a damned cling-on. Simple hugs in greeting, being close to others without exceeding their patience. It really helped...and kept my mind off how devastated I really am. Act like everything's fine and you'll start to believe it. Which is semi-true. If you don't address the ugly beast about to rear its head, it will destroy you.
I'm trying to be strong...for my family, for myself. I'm an internal mess but outwardly I'm getting by. I just hate how crazy I feel inside. I know it's natural, I know it's a part of grieving someone very close to you. I've honestly had enough with Death. I've lost so many bright souls in the last few years...and now my Dad... I'd like to have a word with the Fates...preferably running them over with my car for starters. *lets out a soft growl of frustration and takes another drink of her coffee*
Alright... I'm sorry for being like this. I'm trying, I really am. It's just so fucking hard... *shakes her head* I need to get this finished, finish my coffee, shower and leave by 2pm because I have that appointment in Highland at 3pm. Goddess Bast, I really don't want to do this. *actually starts falling apart* I don't want this weight anymore... I'm so fucking tired, so lost and broken. I just want to scream until I've no voice left. I want this horrible ache to leave me. ...I want my Dad back... *snarls and wipes the offensive moisture from her face* Heh, I haven't really had a drink yet. And honestly, I could really use one tonight. But I may not even be able to afford that. *scoffs darkly*
Thoughts have been rolling through me all morning, so many different ways to speak them, express them so that they would dance like gentle butterflies through your mind; all color and joy. But I fear there is no true joy...the warmth having left me a week ago. It's been odd, this numbness filling me. I know I have emotions, I function better then one would expect considering the circumstances. Yet I find myself trying to feel...something...anything at the thought of what's been lost. I find myself puzzled...because there's nothing. Just an emptiness I can't explain. As though I've been hollowed out and I'm nothing more than a shell of who I used to be. I suppose that means I'll have to fill it with something...but what?
*shrugs and takes a drink of her third cup of coffee* It does help me from breaking down every few minutes. We all know how annoying that can be when you're just trying to make the next few minutes without your chest heaving and your face leaking causing nothing more than an unwanted mess. *grows a strange kind of smile that doesn't touch her eyes* This is definitely a coping mechanism, just not sure how long it's going to last or if I'll ever be Me again. I don't feel all that different but there is a strange energy taking up residence inside me. As though I've gotten quieter, more calloused. Better to be stone than shattered pieces being scattered into the wind. I know it's probably the last thing you want to read coming from me. I'm usually so positive, so bright and happy and warm... I'm still me. Mostly. Just without the bright and happy bits. I still have my sense of humor. I dunno, I just...feel more pulled back. As though I keep myself silent when before I'd have no problem sharing my voice on something. Probably temporary. Just unsure how long 'temporary' really is. Days, weeks, months? *gives a shrug, eyes filled with indifference as a deep ache flows behind her ribcage* Watching Supernatural's Season Finale last Tuesday spun me. The episode was a helluva mindscrew, but that wasn't the real reason for that snake of despair to slither up from the depths, choking my voice. All I could think of, was talking to Dad about it. That was Our Show. Then with a sudden invisible slap against the face, the stark reality of him being Gone...missing two of the last episodes of season 9... Never to be around to see Season 10... To never know if our favorite character (who reminded me so much of my Father) Bobby, would ever make another appearance... These realizations made me physically sick. Even now I can feel a leviathan of emotion swelling just within my chest, wanting so desperately to Rip its way out.
I've been so very close to him all of my life... *takes a shuddering breath and sighs; face unreadable* Trying to get through the next moment, seeing through a tunnel of fog... Wanting so desperately to let the rage fill me, to push away the agony of loss. To stop myself from starting to blame my inability to keep him here... To not go through the 'what if' scenarios trying to tear through my brain. It's just a gaping wound deep inside that echoes agony every time I try to take a breath. Function, I tell myself. But I've noticed something odd... I've been tired, so very tired. It's a real struggle to get out of bed in the morning. It's hard to see any reason to do anything anymore. For so many years, I was there for him and he was my Rock... *Is surprised as her eyes sting, just slightly and she has to wet her suddenly very dry lips* I don't want to feel this. Whatever the hell this is. I desperately need to get my head in a different state...and really could use a good scotch to burn these emotions down the back of my throat. Swallow the tears and focus on the positive. *scoffs* If there's anything truly good left when you feel like a shell and are starting to fight yourself from completely isolating yourself from everyone and everything you love.
Apologies for how...dark this may be. It's not intentional, nor is it me brooding. No, I'm not becoming 'Captain Forehead' (Kudos to those of you who know who I'm talkin' about). But it's odd, not wanting to be around anyone, not wanting to Feel (because it's actually hard to feel anything but white noise) I'm actually quite desperate for interaction. And hard liquor. *sighs and shakes her head* Everything changes, people die and you learn to live with it. Even if it was your Hero, your Rock. The world doesn't stop spinning because your entire existence has been thrown screaming into chaos. Adapt and move forward. Because that's all you've got. -E-
A shadow has shrouded my vision... A cold and silent thing that stands in the place of a light that has guided me since the moment I took my first breath. Leaving a strange feeling of an incredibly heavy emptiness that I know will never be filled.
A piece of something vital to who I am, a precious inner light...has died. ...I'm not me anymore. Struggling to keep myself in one piece. Head up, eyes forward, forcing myself to seek out the new dawn. But there's no clear path as everything has been swallowed in that terrible shadow. Like a thick fog it has consumed and devoured my world. Forcing me to tread through a nightmare version of Silent Hill.
I want to tear this ache from my soul and cast it into the fires... Rid myself of this pain, so deeply imbedded within that Death's Scythe would scarcely reach it. Shattered. Unbelievably shattered. Hollowed out by tragic events of which there was no escaping. Tattered and off-center, hanging off the edge of a cliff waiting for that inevitable fall into a ravenous oblivion. Seeking solace within the quiet, the silence a comfort as the internal screams echo defiant white noise behind swollen eyes. Desperate to release them, to find the light taken far too soon.
There's only shadows that remain. Unfeeling and hollow they dance along the walls of my mind. They know me here within this tattered mist. Fragmented pieces of a dying spirit strewn out across the floor, a hint of red staining their edges. Unable to truly describe these...Feelings... Finding a numbness taking over, a strange quiet swirling around me, suffocating me. It'll pass...and I'll rebuild myself. But it won't be the same. Never again.
Where to begin... Such fleeting words, encased like shifting butterflies, waiting for their time to emerge and release their beauty into this world. But there is nothing beautiful about these twisted things hiding within the catacombs of my mind. They writhe and hiss, resembling Aliens hidden within the walls of their hive... Silent, patient...waiting; forever scrutinizing their surroundings with a voracious hunger I will never understand. One opportunity and they'll spill forth in a black flood of rage and teeth. Made of darkness and horror they travel behind my eyes. Living shadows made of nightmares. I envy their strength. Their ability to feel no fear. Frighteningly beautiful in their skeletal perfection. I want them to take me away from all this... Emotion. Carry me down into a void that only wants to welcome me. Bring me to the great mother and lay me in her terrible arms... Where I'll be safe in all of her monstrous beauty.
I've been rereading my Aliens comics again... Can you tell? *smirks* There's a strange slowness in me today. As though I'm drifting. Nothing more than a weightless thing carried along the edge of the tide. Fragile, broken... I've lost something along the way. As though bits and pieces of my spirit have torn away and have been scattered to the winds. I'm not quite myself today. Going through the motions, I awoke early as my dreams fought to trickle through my half-conscious mind. I got up, collected myself and proceeded out into the house to make a strong pot of coffee and took my leave to the bathroom. Within all the white noise blaring in my mind, my body moved on its own accord. I felt as lost as a Moth fluttering toward an unknown light trapped within the thick darkness of night. I feel twisted inside. Every time I've paused, a moment...just a simple, single moment... My thoughts would scream toward my Father and this terrible stone would crush against my chest. So very heavy...and yet, so very numb at the same time. I am an enigma of emotion that I haven't the strength to understand.
Writing these words give only the briefest of clarity, allowing some of this chaos to suss itself out as I try, so very desperately to keep myself steady. To remain calm and stoic...to not fall apart as the threat of tears sting my eyes. No word on the status of his condition. Not a whisper. So as I wait, I keep myself in this clouded state, hoping that as I remain contained, I can keep a level head for whatever news that's brought to light. I can't afford to fall apart. My eyes are too swollen and tender to withstand another breakdown after yesterday. With everything spinning towards the drain, seeing the out-pouring of love and support actually made me pause. It was overwhelming and incredibly humbling. As I type this, the sting returns to my eyes... How grateful and touched I am to be blessed to have so many Angels in my life. I am humbled by your warmth. I may not personally respond to everyone, but there is a reason for this. Currently I'm unable to repeat the same painful information over and over. It'll only put more cracks in a severely damaged levee that's struggling to keep me from snapping. I also tend to become quiet when I'm fighting through an emotional roller coaster. If I'm short in my replies and don't seem very engaged in conversation, know that it is not personal. As social as I am (my motto being, 'I open my Mouth and Words fall out') when I'm not quite myself, I go silent. Which tends to scare those who know me. Don't worry, it's just another facet of who I am. I'm half Extrovert and half Introvert. It's an odd mix, but it keeps me balanced...mostly. Feeling what I'm feeling... I'm not interested in speaking. To anyone. And when I am, it's brief and generally benign. I become very calm and guarded. It's strange, but a natural defense mechanism that actually helps me. So if I seem other than myself, just know that I'm trying to work all of this out internally without going nuclear. Last thing I want to do is snap and start driving on the sidewalks for Fun. *chuckles softly as the song, "Keep Away" by Godsmack plays over the speakers* The song describes my current temper if provoked. I literally snapped at a young man yesterday when I had to walk into Stater Brothers just to pick up some Cat Food for my boys. He had some kind of newspaper and I knew he'd been watching me walk toward him shortly after I'd gotten out of my car. I was in No Mood to be social, let alone listen to some teenager's sales pitch for a product I could give to shits about. He started his pitch and I firmly stated, "No thank you darlin'." But when he took a step toward me, completely ignoring my polite decline and continued speaking, I wheeled around, stood up straight, threw my shoulders back and when I spoke, my voice had dropped several octaves and every word was very articulated, "Look, my Father is Dying, I'm Not in the mood." and oddly enough, he shut right up and literally took a step back.
Heh, guess I was channeling a certain muse... Riddick would be proud. -Anon-
Something inside me knew this would happen... The strange feelings I've been getting, the sense that a shadow was lingering nearby, patient, silent... I knew this would happen. Almost to the day. I even said a few months back, when Dad was doing really bad, that if things kept heading downhill like they were, he would be gone by the end of Faire. I even saw a date in my head that kept pulsing in my thoughts like an unwanted beacon within the darkness... May, it whispered in a haunting voice that fell from no human lips. I even sensed something about the time frame, between the 11th and 18th. Now, I keep thinking of the number 15 and I don't know why. God make me wrong... For once, let my intuition be wrong. Just once...
*takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly*
I just got home maybe 30 or so minutes ago after spending most of the day with Dad. One of my dearest friends whom we call Little Lauren, followed me all the way from Altadena to Loma Linda where my big Brother and his Wife were waiting for us. Glenn warned me Dad didn't look too good...and I could hear it in his voice, even over the phone as we began walking toward the building, something was very wrong. And what's even stranger, is the more upset I became (though contained) this Wind had started to gust around us, starting from Altadena and followed us all the way to Loma Linda where I've never felt it be so windy. This, is not an uncommon anomaly when I'm incredibly upset. People have literally experienced the wind suddenly start blowing when everything was calm just minutes before. This has happened since I was a little girl. Strange, but I'm not the only one who's witnessed this. *shrugs* We walked in through the back entrance near the E.R. because the Main Lobby was closed. I didn't realise they did that for Mother's Day, so we did a bit more walking than I had expected. Not all that big of a deal because mentally, I wasn't all there. I was on autopilot. Hoping that when I walked into Dad's room I could get him to wake up. That was not the case. When I tried, he wasn't there... It was as though he was in a partial coma... I knew he could hear me, I could feel that he knew we were there. For hours we sat there, watching as he laid there and breathed... Hours. At one point we all walked out to the parking lot for a break and we were able to spend a little time with the Geese. I was able to call my large White Chinese Swan Goose who I've nicknamed 'Gus' to us. I called out to him as he was way across from us in the pond where someone had bread and was feeding the other Geese. But as soon as he realised it was me, he turned and started calling out to me while paddling his way to me in the most adorable fashion. I got to introduce him to little Lauren and had him follow me over to my Brother and his Michelle and even got him to eat from their hands and he let them pet and touch him. Goofy ass bird. I love him. *grows a small smile, but it hardly reaches her tired eyes* After spending much needed time with my feathered friends, we went back in...Dad was still unresponsive. Though, we were told by a wonderful nurse named Linda, that he actually said the words 'Leave me alone' to her when she wanted to change his gown. We were pleasantly surprised to hear this. So Glenn suggested I try to talk to him and see if he'd wake up. The interesting thing, is I told Dad Glenn and I were there and we weren't going to leave anytime soon. That we were gunna spend time with him even though he was sleeping. I even gently touched his shoulder, and he didn't jerk away like before. Instead, he visibly relaxed and even took a deep breath (almost like relief) and I could feel his energy shift. I'm glad he heard me and could hear Glenn's voice. What it comes down to... Is that there is a small chance he can wake up. But his body is so tired... They want us to be prepared. It could be at anytime...a waiting game basically. It's incredibly hard to be writing these words... Knowing that the time has come and it's up to him whether he's able to wake up, or if it's time to cross over. I'm selfish. I don't want to let go yet. I want him with me. But it's not up to me. If it's his time, then I'll accept it. That's just the way things are. *smirks darkly and shakes her head* And here I was worried about money, or the lack thereof I should say, along with Bills and trying to get by day to day. Stupid every day shit that's nowhere near as important as my father's well being. *lets out a shaky breath and keeps herself as calm as possible* Huh...this is the first time I've ever Not gone to Faire while working there. I've never missed a day. I feel so... I can't even explain what I'm feeling.
