And If You Did Know?

In Memory of Sharon Michele McAvoy Nichols .:. December 24, 1949 – October 10, 2005

March 26, 2006

So Very Lonely

Filed under: goodbye — mark @ 9:43 pm

Dear Sweetie,

I am so very lonely. Not having you here with me is incredibly hard. Weekends crawl by and are excruciating to endure. As much as I hate to admit this I actually look forward to Monday morning and the return to work as it frees me from the prison of isolation I feel over the weekend. I try to plan this during the wee to do on the weekend to fill the time. However, I almost never have the energy to follow through, instead I sit and stare and wish things were different. I know that I am depressed and I really don’t care. Some days, like last Sunday, I am motivated and able to shop, cook meals, and generally get along like a normal person. Other days, like yesterday, I end up silently screaming inside my self with nothing to do and hours to go before I can seek the release of sleep.

Even writing this down is extremely hard. I just want to delete it because no one cares about the misery that I live every day. Seeing me and acknowledging what I am going through means that they would have to acknowledge their own misery and their own loss, and no one wants to be reminded of things which are depressing. I do write it down and save it, however, because maybe some day I won’t be here in this wasteland of despair, and these notes will remind me of what it was like to lose my best friend, lover, companion, soul mate, and partner.

Today I broke down and cried because I felt that you had died because of me. That it was my fault we had to move so many times, that it was my fault we had so much debt and trouble with money. If I had only done a better job of managing things we might never have had to leave Portland, we might never have had that awful year in South Carolina, or we might still have the beautiful home in Illinois. I am so sorry My Love that I screwed everything up time and again. For whatever part my actions played in your decision to die, I am sorry. I know that were you here now you would tell me that I am not that powerful. That you participated in everything that brought us to Kansas and to your death. You would forgive me for my faults, real and imagined. The problem is learning to forgive myself.

I miss you //\\
I lov eyou dearly
I adored you completely
I believed in you totally
I am still in lov with eyou

March 16, 2006

157 Days

Filed under: goodbye — mark @ 8:12 am

Dear Sweetie,

I miss you everyday, especially at those times when we would talk. Not having someone to talk to about everything and anything is the hardest part right now. Between stress at work, the impending death of my mother, and Laura’s loss of her brother, there has been a lot I’ve wanted to talk about. After thinking about it for a while I did seek out two different survivors of suicide groups and I have been attending them for a couple of months now.

Each of the two groups has a different flavor and I am getting something from going. While it is difficult to be in a room filled with so many sad stories and people in so much pain, it does help to share my story in front of people who can understand what I am experiencing. The groups are peer led which is a bit frustrating as the “leaders” inject their own agendas at times. Going gives me something to look forward to, only time will tell if it is making a meaningful difference. I may end up seeking out a one-on-one paid therapy situation to augment the group stuff.

Over the weekend I went to Illinois for my mom’s birthday. Her prognosis is not good, although she seems to be stable right now. The cancer has won the war, all they can do now is ease her descent and perhaps by her some time. I have been working on a letter to her that I will send this week. I need to say goodbye while I have a chance so I’m not left with emotional baggage for the rest of my life. Helping my father to confront his feelings about this have only strengthened the tie between us. I’m just sorry it comes so late in the game.

Taz and Nekko continue to be a large part of my daily life. Having their unconditional acceptance of me, even when I am emotionally losing it and raging at everything and nothing, is huge. I also have a strong sense that you are watching over me; knowing that you are around gives me peace.

I miss you Tinkerbell.
I lov eyou
And I am still in lov with eyou