Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night ~Dylan Thomas

She’s dead.  It’s strange how those two small words are so much harder to say than, ‘She passed away’ or ‘She didn’t make it’.  The power of words, and how they impact all of us differently is very evident to me right now.  I have not written much of anything since she died as words keep seeming to fail me.  Now that I am trying, it’s hard, but nothing in life is easy.  Not in my life anyway.  Losing her has put a lot of things in perspective, and I hope to work through the tough situations I’ve had in my life that I have let control me, and caused me to lose who I am.  I was already lost before she died, and I am even more so now that she is gone.

 

I was already off work for about 2 weeks, and had a stay at Lindner Center of Hope, to deal with my depression and anxiety.  I was let out Thursday night.  We texted on Friday and the last thing we said was ‘I love you’.  She texted me again Saturday about what to wear to her boyfriends charity boxing event that evening, and I agreed that sometimes you need another girl to help you pick something to wear.  The last text I got from her, the last one I will ever get, was ‘I know…’, and those two equally small words will stay with me forever in more ways than one.  First, I keep thinking if anyone of us wanted to say something to her like, ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I love you’ or ‘I miss you’…her answer would always be ‘I know…’.  Second, I have ‘I know…’ now tattooed on my left hip with cherry blossom tree branches coming from it across my back to my right shoulder.  I choose that tree as it only blooms for a short period of time, and symbolizes how overwhelmingly beautiful life can be but also tragically short.  If I needed any indication that I choose the right tattoo it came in the form of a small bottle of hand sanitizer in some of her things I got from her mom, and it was Japanese Cherry Blossom scent.  We take signs anywhere we can get them sometimes.

 

On Sunday morning, March 2, 2014, I got a call from one of my current roommates, Dan.  I wasn’t doing much of anything, and when I answered the first thing he said was, “I have some bad news.  I don’t know the details, but I thought you would want to know.”

All I could say was, “Okay,” having no clue what could be coming next.

He said, “Lauren was in a car accident last night, and she passed away.”

My only reply before I started crying was, “What?”

I was in shock.  He had to get back to work, but I thanked him for calling and telling me.

The second I hung up the phone I fell to the floor sobbing, and I screamed.

“AMANDA…CHRIS…I NEED YOU…” was all I could get out to my other two roommates.  Chris hadn’t heard me, but Amanda did and as I told her what Dan had just called to tell me I felt like someone was ripping out my heart.  She tried to comfort me, but I had forgotten in that moment my son was in the other room watching a movie.  He had heard me too.  Avery came running in the room crying.  Amanda tried to calm him down and get him to go back in the living room.  He was having none of that.

 

He sat down on my lap, looked me in the eyes, and said, “Don’t be sad, be happy.”  Something Lauren would have said. ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oo4OnQpwjkc ;https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i0A3-wc0rpw )  I had already learned in the 3 ½ years since I had him how to control my emotions in front of him, so I pulled myself together.  I told myself I could break down once he went in his room for nap time.  I decided that I needed to call some of our friends, since I know if they knew before me they would call me.  As word got out the calls and text became endless.  We all wanted details, what happened?  I didn’t have that yet.  I kept waiting for someone to call me and tell me it was a mistake, someone got it wrong.  But it was real.  It is real.

 

Nothing will bring her back, but anything we can do in her memory keeps us going.  Lauren was one of my best friends for the past 10 years.  We dated brothers, we lived together in our early 20’s, we worked together in our mid 20’s, she was in the delivery room when my son was born, and we had seen each other through a lot.  She was there for me right up until the end…

 

“Two Songs For The World’s End

 

I

Bombs ripen on the leafless tree

under which the children play.

And there my darling all alone

dances in the spying day.

 

I gave her nerves to feel her pain,

I put her mortal beauty on.

I taught her love that hate might find,

its black work the easier done.

 

I sent her out alone to play;

and I must watch, and I must hear,

how underneath the leafless tree,

the children dance and sing with Fear.

 

II

Lighted by the rage of time

where the blind and dying weep,

in my shadow take your sleep,

though wakeful I.

 

Sleep unhearing while I pray –

Should the red tent of the sky

fall to fold your time away,

wake to weep before you die.

 

Die believing all is true

that love your maker said to you

Still believe

that had you lived you would have found

love, world, sight, sound,

sorrow, beauty – all true.

Grieve for death your moment – grieve.

 

The world, the lover you must take,

is the murderer you will meet.

But if you die before you wake

never think death sweet.”

― Judith A. Wright, Collected Poems, 1942 1970

 

I was already having trouble sleeping, but then I am having to take 50mg of Benadryl (which a lot of antihistamines help people sleep and are actually what is in most sleep aids), and 20mgs of Melatonin (the highest recommended dose approved by the FDA) just to sleep at night.  I had to remember to eat, or have someone remind me.  I started smoking again, which I had given up until recently except for occasional ones I might bum off my roommate Chris.  I have made a deal with one of Lauren’s brothers, Michael (and also from her Dad’s advice to decide one day to quit and throw them away), to quit smoking again.  I texted Michael that I ran out the other day, and haven’t had the heart to tell him that I bought another pack today.  It won’t be easy, and I may backslide, but I intent to keep my promise.  (Since I have told him and he is still supporting me on ‘re-quitting’!)

 

Lauren was one of a few people who knew about everything I have been through in my life, and was one of those who encouraged me to write about it.  I had a really good group counseling session, and I decided on my drive home that I was ready to start writing again.  Not the fiction stuff I normally write, or the fantasy novel I have written and don’t like; but something real.  I write this not only for Lauren, as she will come up in a lot of my memories over the past 10 years and is a way of remembering her; but also for myself and my son so I can deal with my depression and anxiety in a constructive way.  I do not know who would actually want to read this, but I hope to bring awareness to mental health.  I want to tell my story so people know what it is like to be someone that others tend to label as ‘Crazy’.

Since I’m going to tell my story I thought I’d began when I was born.  A few events may be off a year or so as our memory does tend to fail us as we get older, though I did talk with my mother to make it as accurate as possible.  A few things have also been changed, but only to protect certain peoples identity.  So here is where my life begins: 31 Years in 31 Chapters.

October 2013

I abandoned my blog in the past few months, and writing all together.  After finding out I could not write my 30 Days in 30 Years because of the problems it caused others I got discouraged.  I have also come to realize I can no longer edit my novel without help, which means finding others who have the time to read it and give me feedback (coming in at over 90,000 words this has been hard to do!).  Right now things seem to be looking up after feeling lost for so long.  

The biggest thing I am struggling with right now is baby fever.  Maybe this is due to the fact that I am almost 31 and my son is now 3.  It may have more to due with the fact that around this time last year I found out I was pregnant, and after talking with friends, family, and my doctors among other reasons I had to end it.  October 30th will probably not be a good day for me but I will try to plan something fun to do with my son to distract me.  It would be a very big undertaking for me to ever try to have another child.  After my son was born I had postpartum psychosis (they gave me a shot of 3 months of birth control 2 days after I had him that is known to heighten anxiety and depression in women, this may have played a role in how bad I got), and this included thoughts of hurting my newborn son, myself, and eventually others.  The hallucinations and evil voices took over my whole being.  This started coming back two weeks after I found out I was pregnant last year.  Someday I may write exactly what happened to me because others should know it is very real and there should be no shame in getting help for it such as I did.  It is not an easy thing to admit by any means but getting help saved our lives.  Everything I have done and sacrificed has been for the son I already have, he is my life.

Ending my pregnancy also ended my relationship with the father for a while, we are now friends which helps a lot, though it did not affect him as it did me.  By December I hated myself so much that when I turned 30 I tried to OD on my medication thinking everyone, including my son was better off without me.  With the help of my friends, along with all the other struggles in my life, I made it through.  Soon after we found out my son’s father was on drugs and started committing felonies which included breaking and entering both of his parents homes to steal money and anything he could pawn.  It was a nightmare for two weeks until I woke up one night in March to see him in my bedroom.  He took my purse and my car, and come to find out he got in the crawl space in the rafters to kick in my spare room ceiling to get in.  They had him arrested within 12 hours as I drive a bright yellow car (not so many of those around!) and he happened to be in an area that a former co-worker of ours had moved to and he had no idea.  The universe gave us a break and by that one small miracle she called the cops knowing what was going on and they had him.  Then we went through months of court hearings, plea deal, and the sentence of 2 years in prison with 3 years of mandatory parole.  My son’s father has a wonderful family, no one saw it coming, and it just goes to show you it can hit anyone, any family, no one is exempt in life.  

I went to the Lindner Center of Hope for two weeks to help me deal with all of these things that had happened and I began to fall apart again.  After that I find out I needed major surgery on my neck for TOS from a fall down the stairs a year ago.  The muscles were causing pain and cutting off the use of my right arm/hand.  I am right handed so this was a major problem!  If you ever have a surgery where they have to deflate your lung (my surgeon was using the da Vinci machine and went in under my right arm) be prepared to learn how to breath again!  I am lucky to have a job with insurance and disability so these 6 months off work were made a little easier knowing I was able to pay my bills and I would not have an outrages hospital bill after it was all over.  

I have now been back to work for 3 weeks and have decided to move in with friends over the next two weeks.  We do not live a good neighborhood which is getting worse everyday.  So we are now moving to a nice area where I will have less to worry about mine and my son’s safety.  I have also decided I want to start doing new things.  My first three goals is to have someone read my novel and start working on it again, learn how to play chess, and learn how to play the violin!  My friends can teach me to play chess, I found a professional to pay after bills are caught up to read my novel, and all that is left is to buy a violin and start learning.  My short term goal right now is to figure out what my son will be for halloween this year! 🙂  

Between figuring out what to keep writing about on this blog I have decided to use something I know to continue to post at least one thing every week.  Since my novel (which will be a series of 4) is based in a way on the Tarot I have studied them over the years.  There are 12 major cards that represent the twelve signs of the zodiac.  So I am going to try my hand at writing a weekly horoscope with the Tarot for each sign and see if people like it.  I can’t promise anything, I am not psychic but I’ve had some luck reading them for friends and will be something fun to try out.  We all need some fun in our lives.  

 

Davina