being sad, and sadnesses, and a life of sad

I think I'm done with ice cream. Hitting a pint once a month makes me feel sickish now, kinda like how hitting a cigarette would make me feel gross after I'd stopped for a few months.

I've been thinking about the xanax at Dad's house. There wasn't enough in my system to get me that wasted by a long shot. It's been a very long time since I went down for a visit. I really think my brain chemicals floating me away like that lend credence to the realization that I've been somewhat dissociating most of my life around him. It was weird floating into that sensation, like being a bit inebriated without any level of substance accounting for it. It wasn't a happy high at all, it was more like being jolly in a half asleep kind of way, if that makes sense. Like reality was being cushioned through bubble wrap.

I had so many memories plowing me over during the week before we drove down. Like that time my brother and I were seeing who could throw rocks the furthest, and, considering how awful I was at throwing and a little rock leaving my hand wrong as he stepped forward to throw, of course it struck right on his temple and popped a little blood vessel. Blood everywhere. Him screaming. My dad in a fit grappling me with a hand over most of my face while he beat me with the other, all up my side and back and hip, not just my butt, and I'm pretty sure I caught a few fists. My mom yelling at him in her hysterical way to stop, pulling on the arm that was around my face. Me finally popping up for air and the first words out of my mouth, because after a beating like that I could only assume the worst- "Is J__ ok?" I mean, I seriously thought I killed my brother or something.

My dad rarely ever put a hand to me, but that day he beat me hard. HARD. And turns out, my brother was fine, little bandaid over his temple, bleeding stopped real quick.

My dad prioritized beating me over saving my brother. He immediately got me down and started hammering before he even made sure my brother was ok. He assumed, ASSUMED, I had tried to kill my brother, and in those moments, my dad inflicted his wrath and ruin on my body without a second thought.

I wonder how long he'd have gone on if Mom hadn't stopped him.




So decades later, I'm sitting in his house with everyone enjoying hanging out and food and stuff, and the only way I could even be there without puking was with xanax. And there wasn't near enough xanax to make me float that hard. I take low dose xanax every day and don't float like that. I take more for MRI and don't float like that.

This is the first time I've ever shared that story in print.



So that get together at my dad's was Sunday, and the ten year anniversary of my mom's death day is Thursday. I'm so emotionally shut down I can barely feel me at all. Which is probably a good thing right now.


Back to real life. Kiddo is slowly decorating my entire house for Halloween. I went online and found a whole pile of really cheap decor that I can hand out to her one day at a time, and so far we've got window clings and a few ghosts and paper pumpkins dangling around the house. I have a roll of black crepe paper I'll save till nearly the end, I'm sure she'll string it everywhere. I have a little kit of pipe cleaners and googly eyes we can make spiders with sometime. I've got another kit for glow in the dark slime. Honestly, I've not enjoyed Halloween coming like this in a very long time.

The dark side of Halloween is being dredged out into the open now with the anons, and there are some kinds of decor I absolutely won't allow into my house. Now that I've seen proof that kids are sacrificed on Halloween and Christmas and many other moons and holidays, I am loathing the 'innocence' of getting our kids used to the kind of decor where we mimic drinking out of skulls or use bloodiness as dress and decor. I've been through having blood and guts all over me, between years of butchering and stat cleaning in hospital, so yeah, celebrating evil is a very sad thing our world is becoming all too comfortable with. I don't want that in my house.

Today is a very long day. I shopped in 3 places looking for proper ingredients for a get together with my sisters on my mom's ten year anniversary death day, and life reared up and said NOPE, so it's just me with the yummies now. I guess I'll be making yummy suppers instead, adapting spring roll wrappers to BBQ, Italian, and whatever else I want to play with. Found that on youtube. I bet I could make a fun breakfast wrap too. Oh, and apple pie wrap.

Had to go in for mammogram today, and as I was walking into the building, I suddenly thought out of the blue "I really need to be done with ___." A person. I guess we're on two different planes again, and we may never meet again in this life or a next. I stopped blogging about the things in my heart because they are too painful. I did resolve what needed resolving, but after that, I realized I don't belong on the path she walks. My path goes in a direction she isn't headed. I guess I was a bump in her road, maybe.

I will never not be sad for that.