LOVE HARDER

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DcR9Q_1ucc0
From Laurie:

Our Plea

Our friend Brandy is a brilliant writer, a wonderful teacher, and a generous friend. And she is in love with a man who has just been diagnosed with multiple myeloma.

We are raising money for the Multiple Myeloma Research Fund in his name. For the price of a cinnamon dolce latte, half-caf, hold the whip, you can be part of an effort to cure a disease that affects approximately 750,000 people worldwide.

http://www.loveharder.org

Every dollar brings us a dollar closer to a cure. And every donation brings a sliver of hope to a girl who needs all the hope she can get.

Love Harder,
[Your Name]


What You Can Do

• Give. Be part of a worldwide effort to cure a disease that affects approximately 750,000 people worldwide. Every dollar helps.
  
  
• Pass it on. Forward this story to five people. Share this blog post. Become our fan on Facebook.
  
  
• Love harder. Life is short, love is unbending, and no one knows what could happen next. Tell someone you love them today.
  

Where Your Money Goes

• The American Institute of Philanthropy recently named The Multiple Myeloma Research Foundation one of the best organizations to give to in terms of their accountability and use of resources.
  
  
• By working closely with researchers, clinicians and partners in the biotech and pharmaceutical industry, the MMRF has helped bring multiple myeloma patients four new treatments that are extending lives around the globe.
  
  
• The MMRF has advanced twenty Phase I and Phase II clinical trials. They need your support to advance these clinical research programs and accelerate the development of better, more effective treatments.
  
  
• The MMRF's Multiple Myeloma Genomics Initiative recently became the first to sequence the multiple myeloma whole genome in its entirety.
  
  
• A whopping 98% of your donation to the MMRF will be used immediately to support high-priority multiple myeloma research.
  
  
• With diminishing funding for early stage drug development and the next myeloma treatments not expected to be approved until 2011, the MMRF desperately needs your help.
  

Brandy's Story (if you already posted this, you can just link to your original post)

My name is Brandy. And I have a blog.

And a plea.

I use my blog to showcase the crazy I meet everyday, share the stories of the kids I teach, and document my love for tequila, dairy products and the abdominal muscles of Ryan Reynolds.

Rarely do I talk about personal issues on my blog-- as personal as the dude that I adore. But I need your help. And it involves my dude.

He's a guy who made math comics for my class, so they would love learning about addition. He's the guy who sends my friends gift cards when they are having hard times, who remembers every story I ever told him, who was the first person I celebrated with when I got a teaching job.

He's the guy who sent flowers to me at school-- dozens of my favourite pink roses just because he loves me. He's a guy who has spent a year patiently explaining (and re-explaining) everything there is to know about football during the important games when silence is preferred.

He's made me word puzzles and comics and stayed up late playing Scrabble with me (even though I beat him almost every time). He's listened to me cry about school and family and jobs. He is everything I never knew I needed and everything I always knew I wanted.

I realize this all sounds dramatic, a Lifetime movie in the making-- but this is life. Right now. And I'm throwing away any hint of ego and am humbly asking for you to pray or think kind thoughts. If you are able to pass this on, thank you.

This isn't a call for sympathy or a plea for pity. It's just one girl hoping you can think positive thoughts for the person she adores. If my current heartache provides you with anything, let it be the reminder that life is short, love is unbending and no one knows what could happen next.

Thank you for reading this, and if you haven't already? Please tell someone you love them today.

I did.


DONATE: http://www.loveharder.org
CONTACT: theloveharderfund@gmail.com
FACEBOOK: http://facebook.loveharder.org
MORE INFO: http://www.themmrf.org

option b usually wins

ok kids. a little house cleaning first. it’s been a while since i made an attempt at a funny blog so it may take a while to get the wheels good and greased up (think dirty thoughts if you so choose, i was). i have been saving notes of odd things to throw in here, so i’ll get those out of the way and then move on to a magical fairy tale of mythical creatures, air guitar, and fat bottom girls. you’re welcome in advance.

odd thought #1: when it’s just you at home (or if you live alone) do you close the bathroom door? ran home yesterday on my lunch break, had to pee (yes, it was important to the story) and was closing the bathroom door when i suddenly had a moment of freedom: IT’S JUST ME HERE. I CAN PEE WITH THE DOOR OPEN. not quite sure why this was such a happy thought, but it was, and my day was better for it.

odd thought #2: if you don’t stop for a pedestrian at a crosswalk (not that any of us would ever NOT stop…but hypothetically you understand) does it make you feel less guilty when the car behind you doesn’t stop either? i always feel bad if i don’t stop for whatever reason and most times apologize (which they never hear cause i’m in my car…but whatever) but it always makes me feel LESS bad if the car behind me doesn’t stop either. if they DO stop i usually have a few choice words for them.* never with my kids in the car you understand…i mean, what kind of parent would not stop for pedestrians AND use 4 letter words? what kind of an example would that be? yeah….

*see choices listed below

odd thought #3: JUST REALIZED: santa really has the child labor thing figured out. i bet if kathy lee gifford had put little hats and pointy shoes on the kids in her factory she could have totally gotten away with it. GEN.IOUS. a few pointy hats, some slippers with bells on them, my kids could totally be helping pay the rent.

odd thought #4: was listening to a video blog this morning that contained the following phrase: “biblical happy meal” to described the fish/loaves experience. HAPPY IN THE PANTS. after wiping up the coffee that shot out my nose (not even kidding…you think white chocolate tastes good? it smells even better). do you have any idea the thought process that followed? biblical happy meals…what was the toy? moses parting the red sea? a rod that turned into a snake and back (the original transformer)? chariots of fire (the original hot wheels)? baby moses in the basket (obviously a bath toy)? fuck moses, i would have wanted rahab in a basket personally (she’s the hooker in the bible if you haven’t read it recently…escaped out a window in a basket. would have made a kick ass bond girl if you ask me). and then there’s the whole passing out of the happy meals…was it in the little box with the golden arch handles? did it come with a drink? were there huge containers of mystery orange drink? did they all get their own sprite? was there an option of chocolate milk? a biblical happy meal. video blog magic.

ok. house: cleaned. onto the real magic. can i even say it? do i need a warning label? “THIS BLOG CONTAINS MULLET”. yes. that’s right. mullet. seriously…giggling and clapping my hands like…hell, i can’t even think of anything…I’M THAT EXCITED.

so. friday night a few gals from work and i headed out for drinks and music. it was a pretty quiet evening for the most part with the exception that we somehow found ourselves in the middle of a few birthday parties with some “dresses” that looked more like a legging pulled up too high but whatever. (ladies: if you sit down on the chair and your BARE ASS is on the chair because there’s not enough dress to cover it, you may not call that a dress. yes, i’m jealous. shut up.) so there we are, enjoying food, drinks, listening to the REALLY OLD BAND (i think they were the house band at the opening of the garden of eden…sorry for all the biblical references today...you may consider it your church for the week) and i spot it. down below us on the main floor (bless balconies for their great vantage point). i blink. this CAN’T BE REAL. but it is. or i think it is. i swear on the soul of my father the devil: a mullet. a real, live, permtastic mullet. and this isn’t just some half ass mullet…all high and tight in the front, long in back…this is a FULL mullet. a full head of golden, curly, shagtastic mystical mullet goodness. what do you do in a moment like this? (besides the obvious asking for a towel for your chair)? i quickly pointed him out to the two gals i was with which drew the attention of one of the birthday group guys so he was included in rare spotting. we couldn’t believe it. a mullet. in our midst. STUPID CAMERA PHONE…couldn’t take a picture that far away in that low light. depressing. but we all saw it. four of us. we couldn’t all be having the same blessed dream, could we? and then…old as dirt (may have been the official band name…may be wrong) started up fat bottom girls. to understand the full additional magic that’s going on, you have to understand the full set of music that was going on. they had already played: little sister, my big green tractor, and the joker (among others that i can’t remember). it was an anything and everything in between type band. rounding it out with fat bottom girls. AND THE MULLET ON AIR GUITAR. oh yes. air guitar. in the middle of the bar. without spilling a drop of his beer. at this point, the 4 of us are IN AWE. full on awe. this can’t be real. a mullet. and air guitar. all in one night. so. the night continues, we go back to chatting, and suddenly i am smacked on the arm. THE MULLET IS ON THE BALCONY. less than 3 feet away from us. standing there. in all his golden mullet glory. complete with head toss. yes, a head toss to shake the golden locks. i think i heard angels at this point. or it could have been the ringing in my ears from the noise. either way. so birthday party boy is quickly informed and he comes up with a plan: this CAN’T be real…we need proof. he’s going to touch the mullet. i suggested actual petting of said mullet, but he decided to be a little less obvious and go with the casual bump against the shoulder as he walked by. whatevs. BUT HE COULDN’T DO IT. every time he got close, the mullet would move away. and there’s only a certain number of times you can try that move before people start getting worried and checking for their wallets. HE NEVER TOUCHED THE MULLET. he couldn’t do it. which proves the fact that we were in the presence of a mystical magical creature. like a unicorn. with a mullet. charlie…let’s go to candy mountain charlie…it’ll be an adventure charlie! (go youtube charlie the unicorn if you’re lost at this point. i’ll wait).

so. thinking back on it now, it may have ruined the night if actual touching of the mullet had been achieved. it may have ruined the mystique of it all. as it stands: the world may never know…


*choices: a) asshat b) fuckwit c) bastard d) god damn good samaritan e) fucking asshole that made me look like a bitch f) jim

get the fuck out already 2009

holy fuck. i can’t even begin to believe that it’s the end of 2009 already. i’ve lost track of the last few months…i knew the year end was coming, but HOLY FUCK…it’s here. the only thing i can say to 2009 as it slinks out the door is FUCK YOU 2009. YOU SUCKED. and i know it wasn’t just for me…this year sucked for everyone all the way around as far as i can tell. the year started off like shit and went downhill from there. BUT. i will say, there have been good points, there have been GREAT points to the year, it wasn’t a TOTAL loss, and i do realize that as shitty as this year was, i have as much to kiss the ass of karma for as i have to bitch about. when all the chips are down i have a great stable job with a boss i love, my bills are for the first time in a long time under control and i don’t have the dark cloud of credit cards looming over me (hell, i don’t even have credit cards at all), i have a great house that keeps us warm and happy, the kids are healthy, the car runs, there’s food in the cupboards, i’ve had the chance to learn more about myself, i’ve had the chance to help others, i’ve loved and lost, i’ve grown, i’ve learned. and push comes to shove I’M STILL HERE TO SHOVE BACK. that, in and of itself, is more of a victory than can really be expressed. can’t be all bad when you look at it that way. but make no mistake, this year SUCKED in a hard core way. here’s a brief year end review from out house:

january found us buried under a fucking TON of snow. my dad came up to help us shovel out and clear of the roof (since that landlord could have given a fuck less) and ended up wrecking out his elbow for a while. thanks for nothing mother nature.
feburary started out with a bang- my fuckhead landlord called and told me he was selling the house and i needed to get out as soon as possible. the REAL story turned out to be he wasn’t so much selling as trying to avoid foreclosure. turns out my rent hadn’t been paying the mortgage in a LONG time. nice. well done asshole. so started the first move of the year. we found a cute house and packed up and moved. good news was that it helped me clean house and get rid of things that were just sitting around taking up space. cleaned out the boys clothes/toys, miscellaneous closets, pared down furniture that was collecting dust/stacks of things. so not all bad. later in february started the family scares: got a call that my mum was in the hospital in colville. i decided that in the end i would rather know that i checked in on her rather than wishing i had checked in. so i drove to colville and saw her for the first time in a long time. thank heavens we avoided anything too serious with that one. as much as my mum and i don’t get along, i’m glad she’s still around and healthy (now).
march saw my youngest spawn turning SIX already. six. DAMN. wasn’t he just learning to walk? his kindergarten year was a challenge. march i was in and out of the principal’s office trying to get him extra help since his teacher didn’t care one way or the other. good times. we did a family hockey game with my dad and my older brother (and families) for the birthday celebration- it was good to have everyone here for an evening. big dinner at the spaghetti factory, hockey game, much love all around. we don’t do that nearly enough.
april was the first big hit by the shit train. found out a friend died from a heart attack at the age of 36. no warning. just GONE. we had talked a week before about getting together for lunch. i learned that you need to stop TALKING to people about getting together and GET TOGETHER ALREADY. do it. don’t plan any more. just call someone up and GO. tell them you love them every chance you get. josh was a creative, crazy, amazing person that i miss. he’s the only guy to ever cook me dinner. the first screen play i’ve read from a real person. he had amazing stories about traveling everywhere and doing the things he loved in life. he loved his friends, he adored his family, he was an amazing person.
may and june don’t really stand out- i think that was the only reprieve the year gave us. i know we spent MUCH time with friends at the coffee social. so many great nights of games, music, talking, just being there. for a short while that was a haven where we could just go and be and fit in. so many great memories of early summer nights there. the rest of the time i know we were doing things- kindergarten graduation, fixing up the lawn/garden of the house we were renting, a HUGE bbq with friends (really? 12 ears of corn for 3 adults and 2 kids?!?) in june right before school let out my youngest spawn had his tonsils removed. my dad was able to come stay with us for a few days when that went down which was fun. i also just remembered that was about the time we found out my dad had developed type 2 diabetes- he was shocked that i already knew what things he could and couldn’t eat, was checking in on him about his sugar levels and such…had that scare/threat myself a few years ago…not my first time at that rodeo. around the end of june it started to sink in that half my child support was not coming in, so i started looking at budget options and started to mutter about maybe moving again, but nothing for sure at that point. take a deep breath. i should have. june passed mostly quietly into july and that’s when the shit really began to hit the fan.
july was one great big mess from beginning to end. i know we (the kids and i) managed a few baseball games and fun nights, we celebrated my oldest sons birthday at the ball park, enjoyed the 4th of july with my dad in zillah shooting off literally a truck load of fireworks (not even kidding…the back of a ford f250 FULL of fireworks…nice being near a reservation!). i decided near the beginning of july that moving again was really the only way to go financially- it was either move again and have a little breathing room, or stay where we were at and be TIGHT all the time. neither option was really great, but i’d rather move one more time and have things be ok than be over my head again. so the moving process started. again. the search, finding a place, getting a plan together, packing…then the second big shit train hit. july 27th i picked up the phone and found out my sons step mother and infant brother had BOTH died during child birth. yes, you read that right (and you may have read other blogs about that too). they BOTH died during child birth- actually going into child birth. FUCK YOU 2009. WHY? i don’t get it. i didn’t get it then, i still can’t wrap my head around it now. the world i think literally stopped for a few days at our house, and we were on the fringes of the shock wave. every day shifted from standard bullshit to whatever could be done to keep things together, support my son (and his dad), a double funeral, the world basically being turned over and having the fuck shaken out of it like a snow globe that you thought was safe up on the top shelf being knocked off and shattering all over the fucking place. how the fuck do you deal with something like that as a person? as a parent? as a friend? as ANYTHING? things like that aren’t supposed to happen. ~sigh~ but they do. we somehow made it through that shock wave with a dose of moving thrown in the middle just for fucks sake. settled into the new house (which we LOVE more than anything). the world was just starting to right itself again, i had let the universe know what i thought of the shit move it had pulled more than once, things were calming down just a little and another call came in. my little brother had been in an accident. welcome to the beginning of august.
august 7th i got a call first thing in the morning that my little brother was in ICU at a hospital in seattle in a coma. he had been in an accident on his bike (pedal bike) and had fractured his skull requiring 4 hours of neuro surgery to relieve the bleeding on his brain. he was “ok” other than that. so aside from having his head cut open he was just fine. GREAT. as the world goes, at the same time my car decided to hate me and threatened to quit running so i was not able to make it over to see him. REALLY UNIVERSE? something as simple as a road trip? the days after that became a waiting game for phone call updates on how he was doing, when he would be allowed out of the hospital, how he was recovering. he did make a good recovery, had to relearn a few things, but did really well for how bad it was (literally minutes from not making it). the summer calmed down after that- it ended beautifully with bbqs a few times a week at the new house, new friends, new people in my life that were wonderful. so many great nights. “pool” parties, great conversations, many good drinks, just a lot of great nights to smooth things over for a while. the kids and i geared up for back to school- a big change this year with my oldest one heading off to a new school for advanced kids, the youngest starting 1st grade.
september was a great month. i had the best birthday i’ve ever had. EVER. dinner with my dad, a night out with friends, it was really great. especially since it was a wednesday…but when you turn 29 on 9.9.09 you HAVE to do it up big! my little brother called me for the first time ever (such a sad thing to admit) on my birthday and i talked to him for the first time since his accident. he was happy and healthy and excited about life, planning a trip over to see us and see our house for the first time. september was overall a good month. nothing too exciting. which was GOOD. very good.
october started out nice and mellow, kids excited about halloween. we went started going to a support group as a family to help my oldest son learn how to deal with the huge loss he went through earlier that summer. i was able to go out a few nights with friends here and there, something i haven’t done in years (at least not as often as i was able to for a while). things were great. suck a nice change from the middle of the year chaos. october 24th i woke up to my phone ringing at 8 in the morning which is NEVER a good thing. my older brother was calling to let me know that the night before my little brother (the one that had just been in the accident) had decided to end his own life. if you’ve read any of the other blogs you knew what was coming. like the shitty build up to the shitty climax that no one wants to read. let alone twice. so that day i got in my car and drove down to see my dad. we ended up going over to seattle to clean out my brother’s apartment that weekend also. it was the first time i had ever seen where he lived. after he died. i finally made it over to see where he lived, only after he died. ugh. i’ve covered all that in other blogs. i won’t get into it again here. the next weekend was his funeral (happy halloween everyone). and so ended october.
although november was just last month, i honestly can’t remember any of it. i know we went to see my dad for thanksgiving…which would have just been a few weeks ago. i know we did the therapy with a whole new added set of bullshit to work through. the rest of it is a blur. and here we are at christmas and new year. i cant remember much of december either. the rest of this year has just been a blur or trying to keep it together, drama off and on with the kids, drama off and on in my life. i let myself get all attached to someone and then remembered why that’s never a good thing: insert plenty of drama here. basically, the year went from shitty to FUCKED UP in the matter of a few months with a few breaks in the middle, but not much to salvage the reputation as the worst fucking year ever. as much shit as happened to me, i know i made it off easy. friends, family, everyone has had shit dumping down in a never ending reign of terror. deaths, lost jobs, injuries, bills, heart break. no one has survived the year unscathed in one way or another.
i won’t go into the pollyanna parade of crap again, but i DO realize how damn lucky i am in the middle of all this. but, overall, 2009 can piss off and get the fuck out already. here’s hoping 2010 will be a better year FOR EVERYONE.

i’m finishing this, i promise: i really want to say (through the tears…yes, i’m crying) i sincerely hope, with everything that is in me, that everyone has a great new years. i hope everyone gets to start the year off right tonight with someone they love. i hope you all let the people in your lives know how much you care about them. i really hope that this year looks up for everyone and that we can all have an easier go at it. to all of you in my life that have made it through this last year with me: thank you for being there and for still being there (seriously, im going to flood my stupid keyboard). each of you is in my life for a special reason, and i hope i’m giving the same back to all of you. may this new year truly be a happy one for all of us.

trying to explain depression

so i battle depression. and by battle i mean full on gladiator style battle some days. a dohyo face off with the world’s biggest sumo wrestler. most people kinda get it- they’ve had bad days or been sad about something. some have no clue and like to mock depression as stupid/weak/imaginary. until recently i’ve never really thought of a way to fully explain it. explain what it feels, like, how real it is, anything in a way that makes sense. i think this explains it. for me anyway:
remember when you were a kid and your big brother thought it would be funny to hold you under a huge thick blanket and keep you there as long as he could? yeah…it’s like that. like being trapped under grandma’s giant afghan (and yes, i very specifically picked an afghan) until you screamed uncle. and even then most times my brother still wouldn’t let me up. it’s like that. an afghan: it’s huge and heavy and dark but there are always little places where light pokes through and sometimes you can find an edge to pull back. depression is like that. you’re trapped under this huge, heavy, dark blanket fighting like hell to find an edge or a way to get out but in the mean time every once in a while you can see little spots of light that give you a little hope and let you know that at least you’re not stuck under the blanket AND locked in the trunk of the car AND on the way to be encased in cement (if my brother could have thought of it…he would have).
and i get that depression is so different for everyone. the things they’re dealing with are different. the way they experience it and how much it impacts them is different. but for me, people can’t understand my depression. yes, i’m depressed, i’m stuck under this huge fucking blanket being smothered and fighting like hell to try to get out, but during the fight there’s these spots of light. those are moments of happiness, breaks in the clouds.

just because i’m depressed doesn’t mean i don’t have good moments and just because i have good moments doesn’t mean i’m not depressed.

even in the worst of it i will still try to crack a joke or enjoy a moment or sing along with a song. i still try to put on my happy face (which i suck at by the way). i’m sure everyone knows something is off. i know i’m not fooling anyone, i know i’m not good at hiding shit, and part of me thinks i shouldn’t have to, but at the same time they don’t know how deep it is. but there’s these holes in the afghan…i’m peeking out through those, reminding myself what’s on the outside and what i’m fighting to get back to. little glimpses of light and life. if i do have a few good moments, it doesn’t mean i’m “cured” it just means i had a moment where i saw a little light. i’m still stuck. i’m still trapped under that huge fucking weight with the universe sitting on my chest laughing and not letting me up. but then there’s times when you actually feel like you’re winning the battle…you manage to find an edge and peek out and get a breath and feel like yourself again, but then big brother notices and ducks you back under the blanket for another round and usually packs an extra punch just because. those are the most frustrating. you think you’re clear, you think you’re out…then just as suddenly, you’re not. i don’t know if it ever goes away. when i was a kid my brother would get bored or get in trouble and have to let me out…i’m not sure real depression plays by those rules. in fact, i’m pretty damn sure it doesn’t play by any rules.

and i’ve had doctors and people tell me that there are medications to help. and i’ve tried a few. and i will never try any again. they make the crazy worse (again, just me speaking). they say right on the package it will take MONTHS, yes MONTHS to adjust to them and know if they’re working and then MONTHS to wean yourself off of them if you ever want to stop. umm…no thanks. i still have to function in the mean time. i don’t exactly have a few months away from kids and life to try to adjust to some medication that may or may not work. they also say exercise is the answer- is there anything exercise ISN’T the answer to? fucking retards. i’m sure it works at some point. it gives you something to focus on and i’m sure it helps you feel better physically eventually (although everyone that i know that works out complains about always being sore…sooo…). and i’m sure whatever else goes with it is magical shit on a cloud, but i just can’t get into it. never have. i’m one of those people that has spent THOUSANDS on exercise equipment and videos and trying to get into it- i’ve had the gazelle, the elliptical, the videos, the exercise balls, the yoga mats…i just can’t get into it.

what’s the point of this? what am i really trying to say? i don’t know. i just want to say it’s real. and i’m fighting it. but i get tired. and i get worse. and i get better. it goes around and around. but it’s real. it’s very real. please don’t tell me on the days when i want to give up that i’m just being weak and stupid. please understand that i’ve been battling this for as long as i can remember and i get tired. i get exhausted. please don’t laugh at me or think it’s all fake just because i have a good moment or a good day or a good week. some days i’m stronger than others. some days a kindergartner hopped up on pixie sticks could kick my ass. it’s just been so frustrating listening to people say that my brother was weak and cowardly and gave up or couldn’t deal when he took his own life. i don’t see it that way. i think because i’ve fought the battles he fought. i’m still fucking fighting them. and if anything, his death has scared the fucking shit out of me because if he lost the fight…who’s to say i won’t? and i know it’s a personal choice and it’s a personal decision to continue on or not. but i understand why he chose not. i understand how tired and hurt and broken he felt. and more than once i’ve wanted to make the same choice. and more than once i’ve felt that it was too much and wanted a way out.
i guess i just want people to understand it better. understand me better. that’s all.

reason #402 i should not own a pet

so. we got a brand new baby kitty last night. she's cute. we named her roo. and immediately thereafter, the other adult and i in the house (yeah...that's a whole other blog in itself) both turned into 17 year old boys in a locker room.

what happens when you bring a new kitty home? that's right, the jokes about the younger, cuter pussy start. and i'm still giggling now. 24 hours later. so completely rude and degrading to women and inappropriate, but hella funny. among them were:

looking for pussy
stroking pussy
sweet little pussy
fishing for pussy (toy on a string...you get the idea)
who got more pussy time
who pussy liked better

i'm pretty sure that should be a question on the adoption form: will you be making inappropriate jokes about your new pet? but hey, at least we waited (mostly) until the kids were in bed to really start in.

that is all.

is it fight LIKE the devil? or fight the devil?

this won’t be funny. i’m sorry, if you were looking for funny, come back in a while. maybe a long while. it may take quite some time to get back to funny.

this year is shit. I’m just going to throw that out there. don’t know too many people who will disagree at this point. it’s been shit for everyone, I’m not some random odd sad exclusive case. it’s been a fucked up shitty munchkin ass sucking year. I’ve yelled at the universe a few times and told it to back the fuck off. it did for a moment. little did I know that moment was just the back swing to a bigger hit. I said before that this year sucked but it hadn’t hit home yet. just around and close by. this one hit home. this one hit the motherfucking core. this one hit dead fucking center in the middle of it all. this one hurt.

on october 23, sometime between 130 and 415 in the afternoon, my little brother ended his life. he was 27. had actually just turned 27 in september. he just…you know…it was too much for him. there was so much going on. and it’s sad to learn, but the demons I’ve been battling forever are the same ones that plagued him. oh how I wish I had known. I don’t know if there’s comfort or more misery in knowing someone shares the same battles you do. you hurt for them because you know the pain, but at the same time you hurt less because you can share the pain. I don’t know what being a survivor of suicide is supposed to be like- i was given a few handouts that I read over, and it sounds like I’m not doing it right. but I don’t know if there is a right in this situation. I’m not angry. I don’t have any unanswered question. I don’t think it was selfish. I don’t think it was stupid. I don’t think it was some fucking mental illness or problem. he was just hurting. a broken spirit. I get it. from beginning to end, I get it. does it make it any easier? fuck no. do I wish he had found another path? hell yes. but do I get it? damn straight I do. I understand. I can see the path he walked. I can think the thoughts I’m sure he thought. because I’ve been there. I’ve been in that dark corner staring down that same fucking demon. I’ll never know for sure, but I think I can see. and it hurts. because I’ve felt the same things. I’ve written the same things he wrote in his goodbye letter. and that scares me. if we’ve had the same thoughts and walked the same path. and he lost the battle…what does that mean for me? I don’t want to lose this battle. but I can see how easily it can be lost. he wrote in his letter that he was broken and didn’t want to be fixed. I know that feeling. holy fucking pain and darkness do I know that feeling. and your soul hurts. and you feel so broken. and you don’t want to bother people trying to fix you because you don’t feel you can be fixed. and you feel like you’re wasting their time and your time. and you feel like such a burden. and you don’t want everyone worrying about you or stressing about you. but they do, mostly because they don’t understand and just want to make it go away. but those feelings can’t just go away. and there’s those people telling you to just get over it- like it’s a choice you’re making to feel that way and if you would just snap out of it- like it’s your own fault and your own decision to be stuck in that dark endless cave. yes, it’s so enjoyable, I chose to be there. fuck off. obviously spoken from someone who has never been there and desperately clawed to fight their way out only to end up deeper than they started. and then you feel like even more of a failure because you’re letting them down…and the spiral continues. it’s evil. it’s dark. and it gets a hold of you in ways that can’t be explained. and I think he was like me…you put on this face and people may know you’re having a bad day but they have no idea how fucking bad it really is. I’m not good at playing my cards close. I have a feeling and you can see it on my face. steve was a better card player than me. he held it close. obviously no one knew how deep this went for him.
but even though I get it, even though I understand the choice, it doesn’t make it any easier. and the strangest things are so hard for me right now. I’m so jealous and angry at his friends. growing up steve and I had basically no relationship. I would go to our dad’s house for two weeks during the summer, the occasional spring break, very few holidays or any other event (if any…can’t actually remember any other times I went there). into our adult lives I wasn’t there…he lived with my oldest brother for a while and I went to see them once. I wasn’t there when he joined the army. I got to welcome him home from the war later though. I wasn’t there when he graduated dive school. I wasn’t there for holidays. for the first time I was able to see where he lived over in seattle, the beach that he loved, his home, but it was only after his death to clean out his things. I see his friends, his family, they have all these memories and steve stories. and I don’t. and I’m jealous. I’m angry for the stolen years when we were kids. I’m angry at myself for not making it over to see him. I’m angry at my older brother for living closer and being able to go to all the football games and baseball games and lunches and events. I’m angry at his friends that got to see him and know him and love him. I’m jealous of all their memories. all their remembrances. all their pictures and stories and things to look back on. I see theses scraps and remnants and I connect to them in a way I can’t explain. but I wasn’t there for any of them. I don’t know what made him laugh in those pictures. I don’t know what was behind the rooster head or hugging the giant gumball machine or the skydiving adventure. and I’ll never know.
but now there’s this gigantic battle in my head. I see how much he loved life when he loved it. I see how happy he was when he was happy. and I want to be that way. he was a drifter, a wandering spirit, and I envy that. I’ve been so locked down with responsibility for so long. I envy being able to change jobs and move and spend days on the beach or out with friends or creating art work. I wish I could be that way. I wish I could leave this job and do something that I love, not just something that pays the bills. I wish I had the courage to just be myself all the time and do what I loved and not try to be what I’m expected to be or what my family is comfortable with me being. was he some kind of saint? no. was he perfect? no. I’m not trying to make him into some glowing being. he was in trouble, he was drifting, he had to be bailed out now and again. he rarely finished what he started. he didn’t always make the best decisions. but isn’t that what life is about? trying things out and finding what fits you? I envy that he was able to do that. I crave being able to do that.
and while I’m calling out demons…you have to call them all out. you have to face them all, or you can’t deal with them. so I’m going there. I’m going to say it, and I know before I say it how fucked up it is. I get it. but I have to say it because it’s rolling around in my head and I have to face it: I’m jealous that he got out. I’m jealous that he doesn’t have to fight any more. I’m jealous that he could go and not feel stuck here for someone or something. and YES…I know how fucked up that thought is. a big part of that is that I know the not being able to be fixed feeling. and that’s a lot to carry around. and he doesn’t have to worry about being fixed any more. he doesn’t have to be the broken one walking around letting his family down.
wow. that was hard to say. it’s hard to express how long that last paragraph took to type…just know this…two hours. yes. that small paragraph took two hours to write. but I said it. once you say it, it isn’t so scary. and it’s not as threatening. you can read it and see how fucked up it is and it makes everything less…whatever…
so. that’s where I’m at right now kids. I’m sorry if it’s sketchy and jumpy and doesn’t make sense. it doesn’t make sense to me either. I just had to get it out.

shhh....

well, after the insanity that was this summer, things have been oddly quiet. it's been nice. very nice. not much has happened at all. oh shit. now i'm terrified...something will happen and i'll have to kick my own ass for jinxing it which is hard to do because i'm not really that flexible, so kicking my own ass takes a TON of work. ah shit.
anyway. not much going on. kids are in school, i go to work, we come home, have dinner, watch some boring crap on tv and call it a day.
there's been a few odd stories here and there...i need to start writing them down when they happen so i can share with all...wait...do i even have any readers? hmmm....
if there are any of you, i promise i'll come up with something interesting soon to spew on here. i know you're missing your usual dose of crazy...
for now...enjoy the new picture of my new boots. it's pretty. and hot. it's pretty hot.