Y'know. I never use this fucking thing and no one that still follows me really uses it either so let's just. Actually use this as my blog or something.
Recently, my sister died of cancer. She was my guardian angel and genuinely the kindest human being. It's usually odd when people say stuff like that because it feels fake. But like. Let me explain.
Mother of 2, one boy, one girl, 35, a degree, a decent job, a husband who was in the military and made lots of money.
And like. This, life style isn't mine ok. But i respect what she was building. A home. A family. They were Christian, and not the like. Angry kind either.
She had emotional problems, being the children of my lovely parents would change anyone emotionally. Trust me. A narcissist and a gambling addict? But.
She maintained no vices. No smoking, drinking, anything. Hell- she even put her health forward in the last 2 years. Trying to be healthier.
And I know it's dark but. We all know that *if we are lucky* we get to go to our parents funeral. Like that horrible experience isn't even guaranteed. But it's a part of life. I've been preparing for that day since I discovered "momento mori". I had never- even thought of writing something to say my older sisters funeral. Never did I feel the need to even think about watching her struggle. Because she was- my older sister? She was the boss when the evil bosses were at work. She was the settler of arguments between my brother and I. She taught me about, forgiveness and how to handle frustration without hitting. But now I'm just supposed to like. Accept she was taken from me within a year? I definitely didn't call her enough because now, now I'm realizing that the time I thought I had was cut short.
I cried the night before she went into hospice, because I saw it on her face that she was tired of fighting. That she knew it was time. She was fucking. Apologizing to me. That she was groaning in pain, or being gross for spitting up. That's how fucking good of a person she was. Didn't want to upset me. That was it.
We talked and everything, while she still could. It's so hard to- not act like everything is normal. When she first got diagnosed, I was telling her 'if dad, and our uncle can get through what they did, you can too. We will be eating steak in no time', just to get the terminal diagnosis two weeks later. And for the fucking sake of it, I was told until fucking Christmas. I was told, she could make it to fucking Christmas. I was there for her birthday because we thought we were going out to celebrate life. And I left that trip with out that good time, and without my sister.
And I'm sitting here. Fucking. Struggling to make things make sense. Juggling the mental struggles I already was working on with this?
Insomnia is just back now. I ran out of Ambien when this mess started. I can't really just stop the council from having meetings and it's just arguments, and fear. I feel the tension in my brain. Everything is incredibly hairpin triggering for me lately. And I'm just.
I'm not even getting into the intricacies of it like. My parents reactions, my niece and nephews reactions, discovering things about our family I didn't know, building a distrust in others, and the worst, knowing the horrible things my sister went through unrelated to the cancer.
And I just listen. I'll just keep listening.
