Really, this grown-up shit sucks. There was an accident last Friday. Family friends lost their son and his best-friend when a drunk-driver plowed into their truck. The truck burst into flames, the family put the fire out, trying to save the driver, not realizing their son was in the truck.
Can you imagine?
So I will pay our respects this Saturday and I will try to keep it together. With a little help from some anti-anxiety pills. Which brings a whole different issue. I'm all for taking medication when you need it. Never thought I'd have to take anti-anxiety pills. Yet another piece of fall-out from Patrick's death.
Because I never could have delivered that eulogy so coherently without them. I'm not too proud to admit that; I was a freakin' mess. I knew I was a mess.
I went to the doctor a few days before the funeral and my blood pressure was through the roof. The medical assistant got shitty, "Why's your blood pressure so high?"
"Probably because my baby brother was killed about a week ago in a car accident."
She stared at me for a moment and, of course, my doc had just come out of a room to hear the exchange and even he stared at me for a moment, unable to move, processing.
I was quickly ushered into the room, heh.
And this accident is really hard to process. To come to terms with. Because I really don't understand the whole driving drunk thing. Why it's so much more common than anyone wants to believe. But I live in Wisconsin. The land of drinking and driving. It was only a matter of time before it affected our family again.
And I wish I had words that could ease the pain of my Aunt and Uncle and cousins. Because these kids were like their kids/brothers. And it enhances my pain and the loss of my family this year.
I don't know if I'm strong enough for this. To not lose it there. I've been to church exactly once since Patrick died. And I cried through most of Mass. And I am a coward, I haven't been back.
I hate to have the kids see me cry more. I feel like I've used up my quota of crying-in-front-of-the-kids this year (and perhaps for the next 5 years?!?).
And the worst is the time in the car, driving alone to pick a child up from school. Because that just leaves too much time for my mind to wander and ponder.
Yesterday, I tried my best to not. I blasted the radio with great songs. As loud as it would go. And I still cried.
And I am still crying.
*don't worry, I'm not in a deep, dark depression. More of a passing depression...it's really only bad when my mind is unoccupied and can go back to these things. Which would explain my need to fill every-freakin'-minute of my days lately. Even the simple task of crocheting is enough to occupy my mind most of the time.