#grindskull

[grindskull]

DEATH HOUSE

Yesterday I went into the cursed house to dig through the remains left by deceased parents. Trash and hoarding and dead animals. Letters to one another professing love, letters to one another spewing hate, letters to each other they never opened or read.

Had to kick open the door to get in. The throbbing pain in my foot a reminder I am still alive and of this realm. Tomorrow I will go through the piles of boxes I recovered in search of something. I can't identify what it is but I hope it's there.

All the art supplies I wasn't allowed to touch or use as a child are still in the boxes. A folded up poster of a kitten among a stack of moldy porno mags. A doll house in a box that has been in the same space in the middle of the dining room floor for 20 years.

Someone my mother was fucking lived in my old room. They are the same age as I am. They love trucks. They left truck models all over the floor. The painted over things I put on the walls.

I recovered my old childhood stuffed dog toy from the debris. I left the rest to molder and rot. Outside the tall grass shimmered and waved in the breeze. This is being alive.

[grindskull]

3 days ago I was awoken by police pounding on my door. I immediately knew it had something to do with my mother. She was found dead laying in her bed. She died sometime on the Thanksgiving holiday. I've been thinking and feeling but not really grieving. I grieved her all my life and I hope she is at peace in the universe. I've officially hit the zero parent threshold and I am looking at my life change.

[grindskull]

A Year of Grief

A year ago my mother died alone in a rotting house. I worry she died trying to contact someone for help when in reality she died because she didn't want to live.

Her health was in decline over the course of several years. She refused to accept the reality of her illness both physically and mentally. Years of her own traumatic existence altered her mind.

When cleaning out the DEATH HOUSE I found a note she had written the week of her death. It said she didn't want to go on living. We don't know how she died but I it was likely a broken heart.

A year has passed since she died but not since I learned of her death. It was 30 days later when I was informed my mother was dead. The police came to the door and told me that night. I felt nothing but a mild sense of relief.

I haven't found any tears for her or myself. I have inspected myself and my family. Both in my mind and in a dumpster full of rotting debris. I've lived a year of sadness and remorse to process a lifetime of the same. I try to recall the happy times but so few exist.

It was only recently that we sold that house. I never have to go back there. Now I begin the process of renovating that house in my mind. Tearing down the walls, burning the refuse, and decorating it however I like.

[grindskull]

Got my ass to the doctor today and they drew a lot of blood and I was like oh shit I need that blood.

Had to fill out a mental health screening and realized I am not doing great but I am doing good 👍👍

One thing one day at a time is all you need to succeed. My first film is screening in two days and I'm excited for everyone to see it.