Distraction.

I've been struggling so hard the past month and a half. Trying to distract myself with every little thing. Working out, reading, putting on my happy face online and with everyone I speak to. As the weeks have passed, it's becoming harder and harder to distract myself. Just sitting and watching television isn't enough if I have to sit through commercials. Sitting online isn't enough when I take a moment here or there to think. Reading and working out, provides a steady stream of distraction. But I'm flying through books too fast to keep it up. With this depression I have no desire, whatsoever, to leave the house, so exercise isn't quite doing it's job. And the pure laziness I feel when I get like this is keeping me from doing anything much at home.

I have no desire whatsoever to do anything besides the bare minimum. I don't want to leave my bed at all. Yet staying in it is even worse. So I make myself get up before the hubs and go sleep on the couch. It's the only way I've been able to get up and take care of the kids in the morning. The mornings, I stay in bed until they wake I fight the most intense battle. My mind tells me to stay there. Don't worry about anything, just grieve and cry and sleep. My heart reminds me I have three precious children I need to take care of. My heart tells me she wouldn't want me wasting time reliving the past, feeling guilty, feeling angry, feeling that low.

I know things would be easier if I just made myself do things. If I just made myself do the mundane household tasks, play with the children, work with the children, leave the house, things would be easier..

Lovely. Just lovely. As I sit here typing what is so hard for me to get out, so hard to explain, while I fight to get the words out, the song comes on. Her song. Stopped my trying, dead in it's track, mid-word. "Every little thing's gonna be alright."

You see, New Years Eve 2007, just 3 hours before 2008 would begin, I got a call. Nana had a heart attack. We were having a party at our apartment. Since I was just 18 days away from my due date with Collin, I had the only other sober person there come with me to the hospital. On the way there Bob Marley's Three Little Birds came on the radio. I thought nothing of it at the time. Nothing at all. Just a couple days later she had another heart attack. Again, the song came on. Again, it didn't phase me. I hadn't even noticed that I heard it the night of her first one. On January 19th, two days after my sweet Collin was born, I got a call while I was still in the hospital, "Nana's in surgery, her entire colon is being removed, C-dif, not sure if she can pull through with her heart still healing from the bypass." Just a few pieces I remember from the conversation... I called my doctor to rush the   discharge. I needed to get to the other hospital. When I climbed into the car, with my brand new baby boy and my husband, he was turning the radio dial and stopped on the same song. "This is my message to you-ou-ou, saying, don't worry, 'bout a thing"

I was too worried to think much about it still, but it did calm me down enough to stop crying. I never made it to the hospital that day. The song came on a couple more times during my visits to her. On her birthday, February 9th, we left our 3 week old son with a sitter, for the first time. With the c-dif and being in ICU, my boys weren't able to come. Tom and I parked pretty far from the hospital. Just as we were about to get out of the car, it came on. I immediately cried. We were being tossed around with the doctors words. Every other day it seemed we were being told she was strong. Was going to pull through. Every other opposite day we were told she was weaker, and wouldn't. After listening to the song, and crying my eyes out I had the most intense sense of calm. We walked the 8 blocks to the  hospital in silence. That night we were told she would be in the ICU for a couple weeks at most, then moved to a different floor, then moved to a rehabilitation facility, then could come home if she had help. Two days later my entire family made the decision to pull the plug. She was bleeding internally, the pneumonia caused her lungs to be 80% filled with fluid. Her kidneys were failing. All of the machines were living for her. She was in and out of it. While she was "there" she would shake her head no to every question, never opening her eyes. The 11th was such a long day. We had all, except my husband who stayed with my boys, been there with her. The hospital staff didn't dare speak against us for breaking the two visitors at a time rule. Finally a little after two pm it was time. The plug was pulled. We all crowded around her bed. Crying and watching. Struggling to catch her breath.. Finally a very, very close family friend, scratch that, a member of our family, went to her. "It's okay Betty-Girl. Go see Frenchie." She said a few more words, and we all cried more intensely. She looked around the room. Into the eyes of most, if not all of us. And that was it. None of us wanted to leave. I tried so hard that day to remain strong. So strong for my mother. I couldn't, absolutely could not let her see me upset. Finally, after hours I left. As soon as I started my car, it came on again. I laughed. What kind of cruel joke is this? Every thing is not going to be okay. It will never be okay.

The day of her funeral, I was in a daze. I couldn't cry. Nana wouldn't want us to cry over her. She'd much rather us gossip, and be nosy. To laugh at our memories of her. And I did. Well, when we weren't in the car anyway. When leaving the funeral home to head to the church, Bob Marley played on one of the radio stations. When leaving the church for the cemetery, again. When leaving the cemetery, again.

She was never told she had her own special song.

It's been almost three years since her death, and this year has been the worst since it actually happened. Maybe it's because my mind is clearer now than it was the last two years. I don't know. I just know I'm really struggling. This battle is continuing deep in my soul. Half wanting me to give up. To do anything to soothe the pain, even if it causes more in the long run. The other side keeping me from diving into the deep end again. Fighting to keep me strong. Fighting to keep me here for my family. For myself. Fighting to keep me safe from myself. Fortunately, I know that side will win. It's only lost one battle and has gotten strong over the past couple of years. But it doesn't make it any easier to know that I will get through this. It doesn't make it any easier to know things will get better once I start doing things again. Once I start seeing some sun.

All I have to do is remind myself one small thing: "Every little thing, is gonna be alright."

I guess this post turned into a completely different one from what I intended, 

all because this one little song started on the television behind me.

I saw this video for the very first time after arriving home from the funeral. 

This take on the song perfectly shows my view on the song. 

Long Lasting Impact

Who knew the death of my grandmother, Nana, would have such a long lasting ill effect on me?

Things had already had been spiraling down hill when she had past. When the family "pulled the plug" it was for the better, for her, but it still was upsetting. I was angry, bitter, and hurt. How can she die without meeting her newest great-grandchild? Her death was icing on the cake of shit that was already getting worse with each passing day. Troubled marriage, a lay-off and lack of incoming money, postpartum depression, individuals in my life I couldn't quite trust but my husband refusing to understand why, things sucked royally when she passed. All of this was just the right combination to help me lose my mind, sending me into a psychotic break. Leading to suicide attempts and a heroin addiction.

Growing up, she was always the one that was there. Parents fighting all the time when I was three? Head on downstairs and there she'd be. Need to get away from my parents alcoholic and drug using tendencies? And she'd always let me come stay with her. She was always the one to make everything better. Always. Then she left me. She left me at the lowest point of my life.

Maybe if her passing was expected? Maybe if she didn't go from being perfectly fine to death in a matter of weeks? Maybe things would be different.

Since her passing, I have changed. I am no longer the happy, always smiling, always laughing person I once was.  Since her passing depression has taken over my life. I finally thought I was moving on, finally returning to the "old me." Then one little thing goes wrong and I am back to that dark place almost instantly, filled with thoughts of hurting myself or others. Filled with thoughts of finding the easiest way out. Filled with such darkness, it's almost impossible to see the light.

I was never this person before her passing.

Since her passing I have learned to appear to be the same person on the outside. I have learned how to act and behave so friends and family believe everything is happiness and roses. On the inside? It's complete turmoil. I no longer can handle the little things life throws at me and my family. Before her passing, my husband getting laid-off didn't really phase me. Yes I'd stress, but it didn't control my every thought.

Currently things are pretty rough around here. Worse than they were back then, financially. In fact, next week our cable, internet, and phone, followed by electricity will be getting shut off unless there is a miracle. My husband will only say, "Don't worry" to me. He flat out refuses to look for a non-drywall job. His reasoning is, he will just have to quit when better work comes up. And that, if he comes across a side-job, he'd make more than working somewhere for minimum wage. Why don't I go get a job, you ask? His same reasonings. "I make more in one day than you would in a week." Um dude, how is that possible when you aren't even working? His other reason is that if I work days, I'd have to quit the minute he is called back to work and if I work nights it would not be good for our marriage. And this last part is true. I can't even leave for an hour without things being turned into absolute chaos around here. My husband is not very good at multitasking when it comes to caring for the children, cooking dinner, running baths, bedtimes, and cleaning up the evening messes. In fact, he can't do it.

When I was working nights, I'd come home to a complete disaster to find the children didn't get a bath, dinner wasn't until 8-9 pm, and they fell asleep whenever. All three still in the clothes I had them in when I left. Which used to lead to me coming in screaming, throwing things, and slamming fists and a face into the walls. So, is me working worth the stress it would lead to?

I often wonder, had my grandmother not passed away, would I handle life stresses differently?
I am so sick of thinking about her death and all else that happened in 2008, ruined me.
I need to realize it's not her fault. I mean how could it be? It's not like she died to ruin my being and take away the light?

Who knew the death of my Nana, would have such a long lasting ill effect on me?

This post is written based on the writing prompt, "Describe a tragedy you didn’t expect to be as deeply affect by as you are." over at Mama Kat's.

How will I get by?

How will I get by with out you to bitch to?
How will I get by with out you to help me through?
How will I get by with out you by my side?
Who will I complain to?
Who will I hang out with when I am bored?
Who will I go out to lunch with? And Will they pay?

Nana, through out each of my pregnancies, you have always been there.
Been there to listen, keep company, and to gossip.
Who will help me stay sane this time?
Who will calm my nerves?
Who will drive me to the hospital?
Remember! It is supposed to be you!
Remember after I had Collin? Finally 21? You and I were supposed to go out for drinks at Chilli's! And for our "shots." Man those shots at chilli's were so good...

Who will rock this baby to sleep? Who will instantly stop this baby's crying?
Collin still is desperate to meet you! He wants cookies too.
Thomas misses you bunches, lady, why can't you still be here?

This year without you has been hell, I need you to help me make life better.
Without you, life just doesn't seem worth it.
But I am still needed, so I have to wait to join you.
Listen lady, as soon as I can, I will! I still need my rematch in Skipbo, I know you cheated!

Thomas was asking for you on Halloween. Wondered where you were.
The holidays aren't the same without you, Nana.
We all need you here.

But you are gone. No longer here.
No longer there to listen, to care.

My mother will never take your place.
She will never be the Nana you were.
Hopefully one day, I can compare.



Nana, I hope Tom is right!
I hope this baby is your way of coming back.
I hope this baby is your way of shedding some light.

Tom misses you so much also.
He had no one to get drunk with at Christmas,
no one to pass out at the table with.


Man oh man lady, we need you still..

With Love, Your Granddaughter

The tears flowing down, as thoughts of you continue to whirl all around.

My heart beckons for you to return to me, I just want you to see.

To see how terrible I do without your guidance. Without you I seem I'm in a trance.

I need to grow up, move on, make do. I must stop putting all the blame on you.

Two days shy of already one year. This year has been too much to bare.

Now, I will start to mend. I can't change that you are dead.

I can, though, change the way I am. It's time for me to form a plan.

A plan of action if you will. A plan to get by with my heart fulfilled.

Fulfilled with your love, for me and mine. This will get easier with patience and time.

As each day flies by, the more I will try.

To remember, to miss, to grieve, and to live.

Because you have taught me, I have so much to give.

-♥Love, Your granddaughter, Nicole♥-

Miss you Nana.

One year ago today was the last time Nana was happy, healthy, and not in the hospital, the last time she was celebrating. Her last Christmas. The last time she was out, not at her own home.

One year ago, we were all celebrating. We were all happy, healthy, and Nana had a good enough buzz for the whole house.

Nana was, and always was the life and heart of any event, of any single day, any moment.

Just a few moments ago my father brought out my mothers gift from Tom, my children, and I, to show my dear Aunts Alice and Agnes.

Inside was a photo of Nana. We all started crying. This morning when my mom first opened it we all started crying.

This somehow managed to be the best Christmas, gift wise, food wise, everything. Only two things wrong. Alice not doing the cooking and not being here between 9-11am, and... Nana...

Man.. I miss her so much.. I haven't even been to her grave sight since Mothers day. I need to go.

I need her.

Nana, you are the heart and joy of the family.

You are the old lady with the dirty mind who made any shy person comfortable.
You were the light in all your grand children's eyes, even when we got into trouble.
We will miss you forever.
And you are always here, in our hearts.
With Love, Nicole

Nana.

Living upstairs made it easy as can be.
Have a nightmare? Just can't sleep?
Head on downstairs,
That's where she'll be.

"Coffee" in the morning,
cereal in the TMNT bowl.
Gotta eat it with the trix spoon,
It's the same everytime, ya know.

Grandpa's playhouse,
David the Gnome,
Eureka's castle,
We were never alone.

Never understanding
why Santa made two stops.
One "Christmas" at our house.
But the one at her's always rocked!

Aunt Jemima pancakes,
and the syrup too.
Always a perfect lunch,
and a perfect dinner too.

Playing out back,
in the turtle sandbox.
Hopping, skipping,
throwing some rocks.

Years went by,
we all aged.
Growing older and older.
She went so grey!

Her hair always the same,
the perm tight to her head.
She always dyed it brown.
But once it was brownish-red.

Her nose was like rudolph.
so red and so bright.
Her toes were crooked and mangled,
man, what a sight!

Solitaire, Uno, and Skipbo
were a few games we played.
While I snacked on her stuffed cherry peppers,
which she always had made.

While we played,
soaps we watched.
But you had to pay attention to her cheating,
in which I would always yell, stop.

And when we left her house,
it was always a blast.
1st stop, always was Dunkin'
I thought those days would last.

Whenever out to eat,
she would never let us pay.
It was like her way of thanking us,
for sharing our entire day.

Those days are gone,
forever missed.
Man I just want
one last forehead kiss.

One more teeth-hanging out smile.
One more silly grin.
One more chance to say,
Haha I win.

Just one more day,
just her and I.
Just one more day, PLEASE
I swear I won't cry.