Painful Truth

I have been mulling this blog post over in my head for days. 

I mainly want to talk about the most heartbreaking news I've had this month without sounding like a complete cretin bitch. Especially when a heartbreak also happened with my sister and the situations are so different and so brittle it's hard not to take notice of the obvious.



A childhood friend of mine past away in a horrible ATV accident. I've known this girl since conception pretty much. Her parents still live next door to my parents. We are were just months apart in age. My mother babysat her. We attended school from Kindergarten all the way up to graduating together. We rode the bus together and then later her father drove us to school together. Every echo of my childhood involves her in some way. As adults, we lost touch. It happens. I like to think that if the situation was reverse it would have been her standing in line during my Wake with her mother, with damp eyes, and she would hug my mom tightly with regret.

Although we weren't exactly besties we were still cohorts in petty cigarette theft and meeting up to smoke pot in the middle of the night as teenagers. We created cover stories for each others parents and had make-shift slumber parties at my cousin's house. We raced golf carts and played softball together. We roamed the mall as a pack (all the girls in our neighborhood) and we protected each other as much as besmirched each other. We had a childhood bond that not everyone else gets to experience. That matters. My grief is valid. She was a beautiful girl and she had a small son who will now only know his mother through pictures and stories. I was pretty much in a daze for an entire week and I still break down every time I pass her mom's house (which is nearly daily). I cannot fathom how her parents are. I, honestly, hope to never have to feel that pain. As selfish as it sounds... I'd rather be saved from that agony. My heart bleeds for them.

My rage crept out when people started posting on her facebook "RIP" just minutes after her fatal accident. Some of her family members found out of her passing through social media. Do you know how horrible that is? The newspapers hadn't even released her name yet and acquaintances who happen to also be her internet friend was blasting her death for internet sympathy or attention.... or whatever it was that makes me fill with rage. In this internet age there needs to be a level of poise and respect for the deceased. Twenty-four hours. Just a day, okay? Don't be the jerkoff tagging the newly departed via facebook in a news article THAT HASN'T RELEASED THE NAME! That should be a flag of HELLO, it's not time to blast it to the world yet, okay? I think everyone should practice this twenty-four hour silence period. If you make your own status just don't mention any names. You can receive internet sympathy while still being vague, I promise. Just take my word on it, mmk?

Just two days after we experienced this accidental, heartbreaking, death... another one came to pass. This death though, was by choice. I know, mental illness is a real thing and nothing to be mocked at. I know, no matter how it happens, death is still depressing and should be respected. I know, I should still mourn someone who has lost their life.

In the ripple of a friend who was ripped out of our lives by pure freak accident though? 

It just leaves you bitter and a bit pissed off. Especially someone who voluntarily abandoned her kids this way. No repercussions. No real explanations. Just selfish greed of wanting to rip a large void in the people who care about your life. Suicide makes me angry. I'm not talking mercy deaths of people with horrible, painful, incurable diseases. I'm talking about someone who decides that living isn't worth it because they "aren't strong enough" to deal with a breakup or an emotional loss. It's hard for me to mourn for someone who chose to take their own life. It's hard for me to be sad for them when all I feel is disgust and pity. Disgust for the suicide victim and pity for the family who has the clean up their mess. Suicide makes me angry. I'd be a horrible Suicide hotline person. "Buck it up" and "You sound like a weak bitch who just needs three days of actually appreciating those around you" won't save lives, sadly.

Those who get that depressed become submerged in it and can't hardly breath because of a mental illness. Some have that chemical imbalance that needs to be regulated continuously but others just need to open their eyes to those that matter and recognize how much they were taking for granted. While I understand these things, it's hard to get the full story from a dead person, ya know? If they stuck around and worked it out, I wouldn't be so disgusted.

See. I sound like a cretin. I can't avoid it. Well, I guess I could but that wouldn't make me so honest with those that lurk this blog. I'm not saying that suicide victims should just be buried in a mass grave at the edge of town or anything, (I'm not catholic) but I do see why they'd go to such extent to make people realize it's not the way to go. A Saint or whomever can reel you back to reality and make you see that living isn't so terrible after all. The idea of leaving your family filled with shame (and that damning you to hell thing) was enough to keep those people alive and sometimes even *gasp* live a full happy life!

I guess that's what I'm getting at, just without the religious garbage. 

So yeah... I've been pretty sad this month. Heartbroken but trying to live through my daughter's smiles and my Hubby's excitement about ordering a trailer for the Tiny House.