Getting It Off My Chest

WARNING!!!! Don't read if you don't want to know my true feelings. I won't be held reliable for your own hurt or angered feelings.

So I’ve been asked to remove parts of my blog. Parts specifically relating to my brother’s death. Most of these details can be found in the local newspaper. Why can they be found there? Well because Micheal died in a public place behind a firehouse. Micheal chose his spot. Micheal chose a time when no one would be able to stop him. He didn’t want to be stopped. I don’t know why he wanted to, but he went and he did it. That can’t be denied.

I was told to write it in a journal. I don’t want to write my thoughts and feelings down in a journal. If I did then I wouldn’t have started this at all. Why write at all? I started the blog because I wanted to share with others. Not because I wanted to keep it all bottled up to myself and deal with this alone. Sharing is healing for me and frankly its time I heal.

My husband is home from war. My children are growing. My family is prepping for another move. I need to do this and I need to do this now. I don’t want to go on depressed not dealing with it. I don’t want to walk around and not be able to look at a pack of M & Ms and think of him and want to cry in the middle of the store. Its time I grieve and heal. I can’t wait on others to do this myself. I’m doing it now and I’m doing it for me. I’m not doing it for anyone else anymore. This is for me.

So here’s the warning. I’ll edit my last blog, but I won’t edit any more. You aren’t required to read this. I don’t require anyone to read it. So you can keep your eyes closed, skip over the link, block me completely. Frankly though I’m not going to worry about upsetting anyone else anymore. I’m not going to worry about if something I do or my kids do might upset someone or hurt their feelings.

I have many feelings over what happened with my brother. My strongest of them all is RAGE & ANGER. I’m 27 years old. My husband is in the army and has been to Iraq three times. While we’ve talked and essentially planned out his service in the event that anything should happen, I’ve never truly thought I would ever use those plans. I’ve always thought that the first time I’d ever have to step into a funeral home to make arrangements for a loved one would be for my parents, when I would be at an age that I’d have my own grandchildren. I never thought that I would plan my baby brother’s service. But that’s what I did. I went into that funeral home with my parents, my big brother and his wife, one of my sisters, and my aunt. I went in upset and hurt. I came out angered and feeling a great need to punch someone.

I’ve always taken a great disliking to anyone who upsets my mother. Right or wrong I’ve always taken her side and stood up for her. This was no exception. My mother was hurt beyond belief and I was angered that she was feeling so. Who was I mad at? At that time I’m not sure. I was angry at God maybe. I might have been angry with Micheal. At that time I would have slugged the first person to look at me the wrong way. Now nearly three months later though, I’m angry at Micheal. He chose this. We had no warning, no note to leave behind. No last minute ‘I love yous.’ We are all left in a shambled mess wondering what we could have done to stop it. We are all left blaming ourselves. But I wonder if Micheal really thought about how we all might feel.

I remember telling Micheal that night before that I loved him. He just gave me this look like ‘whatever you just stole a piece of my steak, you’re lucky I don’t smack you.’ He didn’t say to me. And I can’t remember saying anything else to him that night. So I’m left wondering and feeling hurt. I’m left trying to explain to my daughter what happened while trying to preserve her innocence.

So this is me getting this off of my chest. I won’t promise that I won’t say these same things again, but I am warning you that I won’t hold back anymore. I feel the way I feel and I won’t let anyone tell me that I’m wrong for that.