Remembering

Today I just seem to be remembering a lot. 

I've spend yesterday and today with my mom. It's been okay. A welcome distraction. Unfortunatly a lot of time has been spent at the hospital with my nan. The same hospital I was in with Josh & Babyness. Not cool. 

But now, finally I'm alone. No mom, no Carl, no Josh. Just me. 

It's been sorta messed up, particularly today. I've been so angry. Angry at my nan. Angry at my grandad. How dare they be wrapped up in themselves when my child is dead! 

We've taken Josh to my grandads today & I've just been moody and snappy with him. My aunt had left her dog there and I started making digs about it. She and my grandad know I don't trust her dog around Josh & I hate taking Josh when it's there. She does it to spite me I'm sure. 

It pisses me off, cos I always make sure my cats are out of the way when she comes to mine cos she doesn't like them. 

So I'm pissed off. It's not my nan's fault she's ill. It's not my grandad's. They didn't even know about Babyness. But I'm still angry. 

How can other people go on when my world is shattered. 

Carl's brother posted on facebook earlier on about going to the stupid rugby ground & posted a pic of him with the Leeds Rhino's manager or something & it absolutly wound me off the clock. 

How dare he carry on when his brother has lost a child! 

Wow, Leeds won some stupid cup. His niece/nephew is DEAD! 

He hasn't even spoken about it. He sat in the same room as me & Carl & his mother discussed it & he didn't say a word. Not even a "I'm sorry" 

Ditto Carl's younger brother. I know people don't know what to say, but acknowledge it ffs! Babyness was family to them. 

I'm just lashing out I suppose. It's hard to understand why everyone else can just carry on. Why family can just not even acknowledge it. How hard is it to say some words to someone. Even if you don't mean it. They don't know you don't mean it. 


Been talking to a friend tonight about alcohol abuse, and self harm, and suicide. Dredged up a few memories tbh. 

It takes a lot to fuck you up that badly you want to die at 15. To make you abuse alcohol every single day. 

To steal and beg. 

To want to die. 

To try... 

I've been there and it's hell. I didn't know who I was. I didn't care if I never woke up.

And now... I care if I wake up. I have a lot to live for now. 

But I want to let this pain out. I want to drink and forget, to numb the pain.

I've thought a lot about this. Going into my kitchen has become a test of willpower. It would be so easy to just...release this pressure. 

It's easier to function now I'm not waiting. The waiting killed me. Now its definate, it's not so bad. Well no, its still bad. But I can function. 

But even so, at least 5 times a day I will look at a blade and think "it would be so easy" Just a simple matter of pressing it into skin and it's like turning a pressure valve.

I just want to get those words out of my head. To numb them out with vodka. Or cut them out. 

I just want to... 

"I'm so sorry..."