Nine Years

This has to be shared. Beautiful thoughts, reflection, and honesty. Real blogging. -OM
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Father Says...

My older daughter emotionally posted Monday, “Lord, get me through Wednesday and I will be okay for another year.” My younger daughter responded, I’m with you sis ” My three boys are unusually quiet. I continue to cope.

Today — the Wednesday Dee referred to — is the ninth anniversary of the death of their Mom and my Wife. It was the day that changed our lives forever … or at least forever in earthly terms.

I’ve been through the details before. If you’re interested, just page back to this date over the past five years.  The details are the details. More important are the memories … and there many, well over 40 years worth. Karen touched her family in so many ways.

While I’ve navigated — and continue to navigate — through the stages of grief, I haven’t lost sight of the fact our future was cut short…

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My mind

I want to welcome you to my mind.

It’s a dark thing, but I’m finding light. It isn’t light through the darkness either. There are just areas where I wasn’t in control.

I have control now, come I’ll show you the rest.

Tons of area to be creative. Tons of space I’ve wasted… time. It does seem to slip away, where does she go…

But we have time now, take my hand. Please.

I’ll show you the areas where light seems to grow.

You’ll like that.

You’ll see the darkness no more.

You’ll believe that…

If you shut yours eyes you’ll see it too. A tour of darkness for me and you.

-OM

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@smokendust

Giving

I think this is a great thing to do! Check out her post for details. -OM
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Linda G. Hill

I’ve been thinking for quite some time about making my book, The Magician’s Curse, available for free for a limited time. It hasn’t sold a copy in over a month (mostly because I haven’t been advertising it), so I thought it would be a good way to jump-start some interest, and gain a few fans who will want to buy the next book.

However.

Sitting up here in Ontario, Canada, safe from hurricanes, mudslides, earthquakes, fires, and volcanoes, I feel blessed. Yet my heart bleeds for those who are suffering and have been for far too long. I want to give. I want to do more than just sit here and feel bad about it all. But I have no money to give; I have no time to give.

With much deep thought and consideration, I’ve come up with a hopeful solution. From now until the end of October, all…

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Death Simultaneously 

I thought this was a nice, thought provoking post for the morning. -OM
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Death simultaneously is an emotion, an experience, and a thought process I’m too familiar with. Its the rapid change of a mental state from despair to delusional laughing, to crying yourself to sleep.

What is it about the death of another – that when you experience it, you start to relive every moment with that person while simultaneously imagining future moments they will be absent for?

Is it our brain sending a message to our heart in an attempt to avoid the denial phase of grief while simultaneously crushing it into a million pieces? You’ll miss some of the best days of my life.

What is it about the day before they die when you’re sitting at the end of the bed and waiting – You’re waiting, and silently hoping their pain ends soon while simultaneously trying to make the final moments together concrete in your memory.

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Is it because…

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Why do bumps in my life make me feel like I’m drowning? 

Encouragement for the day. I enjoyed this post and it was a good start to the morning reading! -OM
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thesecretblogofa30yearold


I noticed a crack in the floor, a tiny black crevice slowly opening. As I peered down to look closer, the ground beneath me started shifting…my heart pounding faster and faster as I watched the tiny crack burst open into a huge swirling black vortex. Sucking every inch of life out of me, my soul floating away from my body, my heart disappearing…the sky turned black…there was no way out. The air so thick with despair I could hardly breath, it filled my throat and my lungs, slowly suffocating me. My heart palpitating and the world I knew and loved had gone. It was all over.

Whenever bumps in the road come my way, this is how I feel. It’s like I’m drowning and there’s no way to escape. Nothing will ever be ok again, I will never feel happy again, time will stand still forever in this shit pit.

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Hoping to Die

There was a time in my life when the land was covered in darkness. It did not matter what time of the day it was there was simply no light. I walked the world a ghost and prayed to any god that would listen that he or she would simply end it for me. I wanted to die. I wrote the below poem in remembrance of that time of weakness.

And there they lay. The tools of the day. A razor, a pile of pills, and a bottle of Tanqueray.

I have stared in the mirror for hours. All have gone to bed. With each tear has come resolve. We may as well end it all. I hate you. With a hand I gulp the pills, the bottle is already near. I gulp death’s companion. And to the left are the backup dancers.

A letter to someone… I hope… anyone?

Never there is a reply. I say this aloud now as the razor cuts once, twice, thrice… and as the ice cold water washes away my sight. I feel life fleeing from my nearing empty vessel. And suddenly a wrongness, a surrender of an opportunity? I do not know.

And as the light flees the coming darkness, all I can do is embrace the growing warmth.

People fail to realize that there is depression and there is suicidal. To me suicidal is the point you reach when you just don’t care. You could give a shit less about heaven or hell, they are one and the same because your life has become a living hell. It doesn’t matter how many “do gooders” speak soft words in your direction, you only see darkness.

I remember well that time still to this day. The feeling of that night, sitting online and telling a few “close online friends” that I just didn’t care. That it was time to see what the next page brought. I remember a feeling of finality when I shut down my mother’s computer. My steps were almost light as I walked slowly upstairs. Neither asleep, nor really awake… I walked like a man in a daze to my bathroom. I starred at myself in the mirror for what seems like hours and in those precious minutes I decided I was ready to die. I made that choice. I took those pills and I drank that bottle to the head and I remember smiling. Because finally I didn’t feel so cold anymore. The warmth of death was my friend that night and I was ready to receive him.

It changes you… that type of experience. It is nothing to brag about and many might feel ashamed of that type of weakness. To feel ashamed of being human is a shame in itself. I was human that night, but I am lucky my humanity failed to die.

-Opinionated Man

Jason C. Cushman

@smokendust

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