Topic: Pain, and relativitity.
So, I've kind of made a few threads here and there about things without being direct about them at all.. but I figure I'll come out with it at this point, because I'm certainly okay with where I'm at and would be able to handle anyone's comments in stride.
So, this summer, late July, my mom died. I was the one who found her. Initially thought it was a suicide, it was all sorts of insanely messed up inside the house. The details of the day stick with me, and always will, in such a clear and precise fashion, but the order in which things happened and the sense of time and propriety all blurs together. Every moment I will forever keep, but the moments all blur together at the same time. I don't want to get into those moments, but it's not that I'm afraid to relive them, rather that I don't want to spread that sort of feeling around. Happiness is worth sharing, but this level of negativity.. not so much.
But, for the sake of my release, I remember finding her. I remember calling 911. I remember calling my grandparents. I remember hearing the sirens. I remember the officer who was first on scene. I remember the crying, the yelling. I remember the neighbors at their doorsteps. I remember the anguish my grandmother was in, she'd lived 70+ years and this was the most pain she'd ever experienced. I remember talking to the detectives at the scene. I remembered that a smoker is a smoker when the chips are down. I remember being at the police station. I remember the looks in everyone's faces when they looked at me.
When I found my mom, my brother was missing. For anyone who knows anything about my brother at all, this was almost just as much of a shock as it was to find my mom dead. He spent 98% of his time in the house, most of it on the computer. Long, 3 days without sleep, time later, we find out that my brother has been arrested and booked on Murder 1 charges in my mom's death. We don't get to see him or talk to him at all. We get a call from the detectives about an hour before it hits the news stations with this information, but the details of his confession are going to be tonight's headline. They basically just let us know that my mother had been sexually abusing my brother for the last 4 years or so. Except, the way they phrased it - "They had a consensual, but inappropriate relationship." Nice.. The details here, I actually won't delve into at all, but anyone who knows my last name can google it and find them out themselves. It's some seriously fucked up shit.
So, there's that, for now. I think I'm going to kind of use this thread as a diary, of sorts.
I'd type more, but I've got things to do. Life is busy, and chaotic in such a beautiful way.
And me, where I'm at.. I'm doing good. I'm not moving past this, and I'm not pretending it didn't happen. I'm going to school as I intended to, and while she won't know it per se, I'm going to make my mom proud every day of my life. And while I do this for her, primarily I do it for myself.
Life is exactly what you make it, nothing more or less.
