I just got a job at the University of Utah.  But  more importantly, I was rereading this bullshit blog.  I really feel differently about things and going back, am alarmed at the way I was so wrapped up in myself.  I suppose it's  a good learning experience....

I have a job in the education department for the University and am very excited about it.  And scared.  But mostly excited.  I have calmed down quite a bit and am surprised that I came out of all that with nothing more than a subdued ego.  Even more, I was starting that sick cycle back up with Adam again but abandoned it.  A part of me will always want him, but the bigger part is through with the dysfunction. 

Nothing more to write for now.  That seems very boring. 

It's been difficult to write...really to even think the last few weeks.  My brother passed away from cancer on October 11.  It's been the hardest time of my life, worse than Jason's death, worse than Buffy's.  So, I can 't write much and try to just cope with each day.
What bothers me the most about Chris's death is what he suffered through just before he passed away.  He had continuous panic attacks and his every moment was consumed with just staying alive.  My mother said that Julie went in the room to wake him up and that Julie screamed and screamed "wake up, Chris" and that Chris tried so hard to open his eyes and he kicked his feet to wake himself up but he just couldn't do it.  And it's hard to write this.  Hard to think about what he went through.  Hard to know that my brother is no longer here....maybe not anywhere. 
I have the hardest time when I am in the car and left to my own thoughts.  And my mother calls me and I can't answer, not yet, because it's so difficult.  She just cries and cries and cries and I can't tell her it's going to be okay because it's not ever going to be.  Not ever again. 
My sister calls and it's the same.  And then there's my dad who had a literal falling apart.  Destroyed his apartment and threatened to kill himself so my sister called the police on him and he went to jail.  Two days after Chris's funeral.  We all have a broken heart.  Every single one of us.  But Chris was my older brother, my only full brother and I miss him more than I know how to express.  I miss him SO MUCH.  Just knowing that he isn't at home or work and that he is nowhere at all actually.  And that he suffered tremendously.  I saw him three days before he died and he was out of his mind...even talking about Jason.  The last thing time Chris acknowledged me was that day.  Julie asked him if he knew I was there and he said, she's right here with me.  And that was it.  Never again.  And I never really said goodbye to him like everyone else did.  I lived closer than anyone and never said goodbye. I just thought he was always going to be okay or beat it somehow. 

I am so angry.  SO ANGRY.  I went out with Beth last night and Kurt was under the impression that I had slept with someone so he checked my phone, took all my money and hid my writ of assistance from me.  The writ of assistance is my court document for me to go and get Max.  I am stilling steaming mad about him doing that and all for fucking nothing.  I really don't want to live with him, really wish my whole life were different.  I didn't get any help from the cops this morning in getting Max.  Adam almost started a fight with them and it scared them so they backed off and now we need the judge's approval for the cops to go in and get Max and I am fairly certain I will never get that.  It might be another month or two before I see my son again.  And a clerk there told me that I desperately need a lawyer and I can't afford one and I don't have anyone who cares enough about me or Max to help me with one. 

And I HATE living with Kurt.  With all my heart and soul.  I am deflated.  Hopeless.  Nothing works.  I hate my life with this man who is fucking ridiculous and controlling. 

I did something really bad last night, really, really bad.  I was drunk and desperate to escape.  Wish I could go back and change everything. 

These very last breaths
My eyes pulse crimson, dull and tearless
Undoubtedly seized with an unutterable finality;
the last dread emotion. 
Lying in a fishing pond of blood
My recondite beast, scrupulous, untiring machine,
Won't you ever stop breathing...pulsing, pounding
Exquisitely living?
Every day begins with murder
But ends in my quiet, defeated existence;
Another shiny calamity. 

I would brush your scarred and mottled skin
With my fingertips,
In silent reconciliation. 
Kiss your narrow lips,
And wet your tender kneck with my promises
Let me string together your scattered soul,
Let me. 
Only then can I live again. 

Jail

He sent me to jail.  For four days.  It was horror.  If I hadn't of had the small military experience that I have, I am not sure how I would have coped.  But, just as in that movie, Being Flynn, I reminded myself that life is about gathering material.  I was handcuffed, shackled, strip searched and in perpetual lockdown.  I spent so many hours brimming inside my head that I felt I might go insane.  In extreme moments I quoted and requoted Hamlet, Edna Wheeler Cox and Kurt's phone number.  I thought of Mary from my story, albiet not as much as I should of.  I reread Jude the Obscure and many mundane articles from Reader's Digest.  I wrote my terrible thoughts down with a golf pencil and decided that I was far too much in love with my children and far too afraid of violence to kill myself.  I wore socks no thicker than toilet paper and had to use a community toilet that pointed directly towards the face of my celly on the bottom bunk.  I suffered terrible, anxious diarrea and nausea.  I froze in what was supposed to be a sheet and a blanket but what was really just another sheet with texture.  I was eaten alive by bed bugs.  But the worst, I didn't know where my children were. 
I am scared.  I do not want to go back but I may have to.  If that is the case, I thought that maybe I should just rid the world of myself but I do not think I have the guts to do it.  And anyway, in jail there are people with worse lives than me.  That is some reconciliation. 
Kurt bailed me out, took care of my children and now we are moving in with him.  That scares me too.  But not as much as jail. 

Post Suicide

I didn't finish my last blog. It was time to go.  But, there was more to that story.  And my weekend didn't get any better.  I had some pretty tough breakdowns.  I just have no desire to live.  I do not have the energy to go through this all over again.  It doesn't surprise me that Adam is doing this...but my poor son.  What is this doing to him.  How much more fucked up is he going to be and Adam can think about is himself and how he wants his baby.  I do wish I had been smart and gotten an abortion.  Having this child with Adam is the worst thing that has ever happened to me and my family.  And Max is no better off.  He will end up like his dad if I can't get him back...his dad is nothing short than a waste of space.  He is evil and I hate him.    And i miss my son.  I just don't want to go on.  I have no will.