My very own baby unicorn!!! With a rainbow and everything!!! Fucktards beware!!!

Ronan. Remember how I said things were going to get worse, before they got better? As if I thought that things would go from bad, but eventually they would not be so bad. I think I was totally wrong. That is not how this grief thing works at all. It is not a roller coaster from down to up, up, up. It’s a roller coaster of all things crazy, inconsistent, and fucked up. There is no constant up. It is a roller coaster of up, down, up, steady, down, up, and a huge drop off the highest point possible all to come plummeting down, not knowing when you will stop falling. You live in terror that you will not stop falling and you wonder how much further down you will go before you just simply cannot take anymore.

I know what I am capable of. I know that when I’m on top of my game, that I can move mountains. I have no doubt in what I am here to do/will do for you. But I also know when I need a break from all of this fighting/busy work/kicking cancers ass 24/7, even in my sleep. I have not really had a break from this since we returned home from San Diego, last August. I know what is right around the corner. I know what Jo has tried to prepare me for. I have listened to everything she has said, but it’s just now that I am actually feeling her words, as they slowly sink in. They are sinking in, in the deepest way possible. They are sinking in with the reality that today, after deciding a few weeks ago, that I would not like to die… today I told myself I had changed my mind. I’m allowed to do that, right? Today, I decided that I would indeed once again, like to die because I’m just plain tired and everything hurts so badly again. I’ve been walking around in a fog that I cannot seem to lift. I have spent the entire week, trying to be mindful of the way I have been feeling and just letting myself feel it. I have not been overdoing anything, but even a trip to get a passport picture taken, feels like a walk to freaking China.

I have spent a lot of time alone. With the exception of being around your brothers/daddy which feels like a lot of work to me once again. I have hiked for hours upon hours during the day. I have refused to eat as my appetite is once again, gone. Insomnia is only relieved by stupid Ambien the past 3 nights. I’m trying not to give in, tonight. I’m listening to the sound of your sweet brothers, sleeping beside me.

I lost/had my iPhone stolen today. I don’t even care. I only care for the fact that I of course feel like it was my fault. In my fucked up head, normal people without dead kids, don’t get their cell phones stolen. In my fucked up head, this only happened to me because I have a dead kid and I cannot think straight. In my fucked up head, this would have never happened to me, if you were still alive. In my fucked up head, I think all these things, are true.

So, iPhone gone and what’s a girl to do? I don’t really know, but I feel like I will go back to hiding out. I feel like I cannot even muster up the energy to pick up the phone for a while. I’m sorry. I feel the need to up plug from everything as I am fizzling out. No Facebook. No writing. No technology. I don’t like feeling this way but I cannot ignore it. I feel really tired but sleep does not come. I’ve been begging for it all week. I feel like I cannot breathe again. I think I felt like this a few months after losing you. I think it got better for a while, but now it is back and it feels worse than I remember it. I think this is just how life will be from now on. 5 steps forward, 10 steps back. Fall down, get back up. You never stop falling down. You wonder how many times you will be able to pick yourself up. You question your strength, your determination, your worthiness. You question every single thing, about yourself. You spend a lot of the day, fighting with the voices in your head. You spend a lot of the day, crying over the mama word, you will never hear again except for on the video that you watch on your computer of you, over and over again.

Ronan. I think I started that a while ago. I’m not even sure when. I guess on Friday. It’s Monday now. I’m not sure what I’ve done. Just being I guess. Hanging out at home a lot. Not picking up the phone. A lot. Hiding from the world. I’ve been trying to pull my self out of this deep, deep place of grief that I can’t seem to shake. I feel sad all the time Ronan, but I can manage it. I can pull myself out of it, but this has been on going for about a week now. I spent some time with Dr. JoRo. It was good, as always, but I think she is even a bit worried. I had her spend some time with Quinn, to talk about you. We sat outside on the patio and she asked him some questions. He laid on my lap and tried to answer them the best he could. The whole thing lasted about 15 minutes before he got bored and ran inside the house. The diagnoses was: a very happy kid who sometimes gets sad over missing you but thinks he has a good life, mom, dad, and twin brother. And he knows he can talk to us anytime about anything. I just looked at Jo and said, “Look. I’m worried. I don’t want to not deal with this now, and for it to come up in 10 years from now and develop into serious issues.” She looked at me and said something like, “He’s happy, Maya. He’s a good kid. You guys are such great parents, just keep keeping the communication open. What you’re doing, is working.” That lessened my worry a bit. It is almost impossible to really worry about your brothers. That actually worries me a bit They are such good, kind, smart boys. No discipline problems, grades are awesome, they are so into their baseball and doing so well, they are so respectful and loving… I need you here to shake things up a bit, Ro! It’s all too calm, quiet, and sweet. Nobody is rebelling, nobody is being naughty, nobody is causing trouble. I guess I’m going to have to start stirring some things up, huh. I’ll just tell them Ronan told me to do it;) Nobody could argue with that!

I had a bad day on Friday. A really, really, awful, shitty, motherfucking, fucking bad day. Your daddy. The sweetest of all daddies, knew this. He knows better than to come home with flowers for me anymore. He came home with a small plastic baby unicorn instead. He told me I could carry it around with me to stab all the fucktards with in life. Even that, did not make me laugh…that’s how upset I was. I can laugh about it now, which tells me I’m not as sad as I have been. We had a date night on Saturday night too. I basically spent all Friday/Saturday in bed. By the time Saturday night came about, your daddy practically had to rip me out of our bed to go and eat some food with him. I don’t remember much of the car ride because I was being really quiet and I was crying. I remember telling him how I feared for my sanity. That my head was foggy and I was scared. He quietly told me that he did not fear for my sanity. He complimented me on getting all the laundry done/dishes cleaned up. This made me cry harder. Seriously! This is what you are proud of me for? Getting the laundry done/dishes cleaned up! This has got to be a joke! Those are things in my old life, I could do in my sleep. Now it is such a challenge that it is my big accomplishment of the day?! I would have lost it right then and there if he hadn’t brought up your brothers. About how amazing they are. How great their grades are, how great their sports are, how nice and respectful they are. How we couldn’t ask for better boys. I started to cry harder at this. This makes me so sad. They are the nicest boys, so why them? Why did they have to lose you? The 3 of you, together, was absolutely perfect. It was magical. It was our heaven. I get to dinner with your daddy, I sit across from him, and I pick at my food. I can’t eat. Tears are pouring down my cheeks and I feel like I cannot swallow. Your daddy just looks at me and tells me he’s sorry. What more can he say? Nothing. Sorry is the only thing that makes sense. We drive home and I pass out, without Ambien. I sleep for a solid 8 hours. Sunday rolls around and I tried to do productive things. I cleaned out my closet. I cried a little less but not much.

Monday is here now. Monday was o.k. I cried a lot today but my head felt a little less foggy. We took your brothers to go and watch a baseball game that was being played by a school friend of theirs, older twin brothers. It was nice to sit outside with them and their mom. It was nice to try to escape and unwind a bit. Your brothers had a nice time which I always enjoy, seeing. It makes me smile. Tomorrow, I will see Dr. JoRo before she leaves for about 2 weeks. Not freaking out about that at all (totally freaking out). Tomorrow, I plan on seeing Dr. Jo and then going on a very, very long hike. I’ve got to figure some things out and hiking is where I seem to do it best.

I love you. I miss you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll.

xoxo