10.20.2003
Reason #2 as to why the world is fucked.



babbled by me @ 9:16 AM

~*~

The fact that my mother committed suicide was a very difficult fact for me to accept. I spent almost a year in total denial of it and only referred to the incident as a suicide once outloud once towards the end of that first year.


It was such a shock to find out mom had died. She had a lot of problems overwhelm her in a very short period of time. Her car was totaled, her insurance company had changed and the new one 'didn't get her check', she injured her back and was in and out of the hospital, she lost her job and her boyfriend was constantly beating her and treating her like shit. She was in a severe depression and was sleeping a lot and wasn't eating. She weighed less than 100 lbs. We all should have seen it coming and done something to prevent it.


I feel terribly responsible for allowing her to get to that point. A year or so before, she would call me every week around 3 am and complain about how Scott was treating her and cry. I heard them argue, he is a violent and harsh man. He didn't know she had called me during the fight, so I heard him as he really is. I begged and pleaded with her to allow me to help her move out. So many of us offered her a place to stay and said we'd help, but she wouldn't leave him. She let my sister quit school and live in strangers homes and cried about that, but didn't do a damn thing. I finally gave up on my mom and didn't speak to her anymore. She called me again, once in November before her death. We talked about seeing each other again, but that never happened.


The day she died was on March 31, 2002. It was Easter and Dylan and his dad had gone to visit his grandmother. I was not feeling well and stayed home. Wayne showed up a few hours later and told me mom had been found dead that morning. He said she had been drinking and was found dead on her bed. He said the police were involved because of the bruises on her body. It was two days before I could even go to that house. I wanted to hurt her boyfriend so badly. He had beaten her and she was dead. I began the long task of collecting her things and removing them from that house.


It was found that she had died from taking a lot of pills and drinking half a gallon of vodka. She had quit drinking in November and knew better than to take her medication and drink. I could not even bring the thought that it was suicide to my mind. It was just impossible that my mother had done such a thing.


I tried to push on with life and get back to 'normal'. It seemed to work for some time, then I finally broke and ended up in the hospital due to an overdose. I began therapy and whatnot shortly afterwards and am still receiving it. I've only been able to say outloud that mom killed herself. Even now the thought that it was not suicide comes to mind each time I mention it. The denial is still in me, even though I know it is what she did. She was so young when she died. She was only 47 and had a lot of life left in her.


I think of her each day and just wish there was something I could have done to prevent her from taking her life. I am still angry with myself and my family for not doing *something*. I am especially angry with her boyfriend. He did so many horrible things to her and she still loved him. She did so much for this pos man and he treated her like she was nothing.


I have so many feelings about this and I know that it will take a very long time for me to get them all sorted out. I know it is something I will never 'get over' as many have told me. The pain of losing her is still very strong in me and I really don't expect it to ever go away. It just hurts too much.




babbled by me @ 1:03 AM

~*~