6 Years.

6 Years.

72 Months.
2190 Days.
52560 Hours.
3153600 Minutes.

Time is a funny thing.
Slows down when you need it to pass.
Flies by when you want to catch the moment.
You can't change it.
Only relive it.

Time has a mind of its own.
Memories are confused.
Brain in a fog.
Thoughts rearranged.
Is any of it true.

Time never leaves.

Always in the background.

You can't escape it.
Only avoid suffocation.
Wait to forget.

This day comes every year. 

Less and less meaning. 

As time evaporates. 

Memories fade. 

Tomorrow is another day. 

Sarcasm is A bitch

Once upon a time there was a girl named Olive. She lived in her perfect little world where everything was amazing. She was surrounded by butterflies and unicorns. Money grew on trees. Her family and friends all adored her and appreciated all her many great qualities and talents. She was happy and healthy. Life was fabulous. She just emanated joy. She had a future. And lived every moment of her present.
The end.

Nowhere. Fast.

I just have to say that I don't get it. What does god want from me. 

You think that you work hard. Get your life together. For the most part. And he just sends you a reminder. That he's in charge. 

Why do I not place blame in the correct place. Selfish. 

People are selfish. They think of themselves. And not others. Do not consider the consequences. The results. The effects. 

And yet. I still blame god. For being that puppeteer. Playing me like a marionette. 

Not letting me have a break. To live. In peace. 

But seriously. You know better. Answer me why. It's not ok. 

Don't look to me to make your life better. As a distraction. I am not a pawn in your game. I am a free agent. And I call the shots in my life. 

So take my advice. Make smarter choices. Don't be led by your temptations. They'll get you nowhere. Fast.

You Don't Know Me

You think you know me but you don't.

Outside
I am a doer
A fighter
A leader
I am motivated
And loyal
I will be there for you
Generous
Kind
Loving

Inside
I am weak
A patient
I am in pain
I am scared
Lonely
I am a failure
Sad
Static
Immobile

I have officially been told that I have a medication overuse headache. So add that to my three other kinds of headaches and we could have a party. Oh wait, it seems my head is already having a party and I wasn't invited. So not only do I have bronchitis. But I also have to stop taking all meds for 5 weeks. Gotta ween myself off my addiction to pain meds. All the while suffering from a terrible withdrawal headache, attached to my migraine and occipital neuralgia. Not to mention my IIH. Which thanks to Hopkins, we have no idea what is going on. I just get to fall apart. And suffer in constant agony. And all the while, I have to function. Go about my regular life. Pretend like there isn't a war zone in my skull. That I don't feel like I'm being attacked by shooting fire. That I won't combust at any minute. From sheer pain. I have to go about my day like nothing is wrong and I am totally fine. Work. School. Volunteering. No biggie. When the truth is. Most days I want to curl up and shut down.

How could Hopkins dare tell me that come January, I will have to find a local neurologist to manage my care. And in the next sentence say my case is quite complicated. How could you dump me and expect me to manage. No one wants to deal with me. Have I become that patient. Have I become a nuisance. Life fading out of my eyes. Suffocating under the weight of my pain. Of my diseases. How can you tell me six months ago that you will admit me for testing and then not follow up. Tell me that there are no beds. No neurosurgeons on staff. That you are understaffed. And receiving over 300 calls a day. Aren't you the top hospital in the world. Innovative in your field. You say now that you will schedule me for DHA and ICP monitoring. Find out what is causing my chronic pain. But I don't believe you. You only seem to care when people are dying. Is that what you are waiting for. For me to completely fall apart. Puking my guts out. Unable to go to work. To school. Confined to my bed. My couch. You need me to get to the point before you will help me.

But do I even want to be admitted for testing. Shave my head. All to find out there's nothing wrong. That I am just a mess. Can't get my life together. Who will stay with me. Take care of me. I can't be the patient. The needy one. I am the strong one. Dr. Rabbit. My fear of being alone is overwhelming. Of never moving on from this chapter. Never being free. Pain free. I am desperately trying to live a productive life. Unemotional at work. Working my ass off in school. But this pain is overwhelming. It's debilitating. I cannot function. I cannot move. I cannot succeed like this. I am a shadow. Living half a life. With no relief. No break for the future.

You think you see me. But you have no idea.

Distorted Religion Part 2

Would you ever park in a handicapped spot without tags
Do you run red lights
Drive through stop signs
Would you you ever hit a parked car and then drive off
How about a hit and run

What color is your shirt
Do you cover your head
Send your children to same-gender private schools
Consider yourself CHOSEN
"A light unto the nations"

Go ahead and leave a nasty message on my voicemail
Or better yet threaten me
Tell me what I am doing is wrong
And that I have a lot to think about
Who the hell do you think you are

I'm very aware that my mother hasn't been home in a year
Thanks for reminding me
And showing me the proper way to be
How to lead my life
You are a fantastic example

Threatening to call my Rabbi
What a move
As if we were playing chess
Trying to knock my piece off the board
When I was never really playing

You think you are representing Orthodoxy
In truth you are constantly distorting reality
This is not the religion that I subscribe to
You pervert the world
Create a nasty image

So make sure that your elbows are hidden
Your collarbone is suffocated by fabric
And not a single hair is showing
Eat only the strictest kashrut possible
And wait the longest possible time after Shabbos

I aspire to be just like you
As you spit in my face
And your husband tramples the Israeli flag
When your child destroys our property
I see where your priorities are

So go ahead and call my Rabbi
He's dealing with life and death
sometimes mine
He really cares about your law breaking
And petty behavior

Please keep calling me
Trying to prove your ways
You may as well hold a pillow over my face
Your suffocating life makes me ill
And I will never be like you

Dead Calm

Sometimes I wish I was dead. Shhh, don't tell anyone. It makes people uncomfortable. They want to tell you that you shouldn't feel that way. Or that you don't feel that way. They make a joke. Try to lighten the mood. But guess what. This isn't about you. I'm not trying to beat around the bush. I don't need you to tell me to go to my therapist. Or to go on medication. I don't need your answers. Your suggestions. Your opinions. Maybe I need you to listen. To hear me out. Listen to my pain. Maybe I just need to vent. To be. To feel. To share. A shoulder. Did that ever occur to you. Maybe it's ok that I feel this way. Death is not always a bad thing. The worst thing. Maybe it's a relief. A final calm. Eternal peace. Maybe I'm crazy. And no, I'm not suicidal. You don't have to worry. I'm not going to hurt myself. I have no plan. You don't have to jump to conclusions. Relax. I don't need to be watched or even worried about. I'm just telling you that sometimes I wish it was all over. That I was done. Finished. And that's ok. My feelings are valid. You don't have to run from me. Avoid me. Walk on eggshells. I'm going to be ok. I'm strong as always. I put on a good act. Not to worry. You can go on living your meaningless, insensitive life. I'm fine. Thanks for asking.

Distorted Religion

There's something seriously wrong with me. I feel like I can't hold back from saying what I think. Like my filter is completely not there.  And yes I know I rarely use it. But at least normally I am able to bite my tongue. Today, I am just on fire. I can blame this on the side effects of all the meds. That have completely wrecked my body. Or the lack of sleep. The nausea. But truthfully, I am just fed up.

It's people like you who make me hate this religion. Who push me away further and further. How dare you cover your hair. Your husband wears the uniform. Black and white. And yet you continue to look down on me. And then you call me judgemental. What happened to following the laws of the land. Your children are disrespectful and destructive. Your four year old constantly ruins our property. And all you do is laugh it off.

You think because you look the part that you can do whatever you want. It's not only about following god's law. Ever heard of treating others properly. Has that completely fallen off your radar. You think you know what's going on in someone's life. That you can make assumptions. Assessments. But you really have not a single clue. There are things that would make you sob your eyes out. You can't even begin to imagine what happens behind closed doors.

And the sick thing is that you of all people DO know. You have witnessed plenty. You are not new here. And I actually think you are a nice person. But how naive can you be. How can you make such statements. Life is fragile. And you never know what a person is going through. But go ahead. Be all high and mighty in your stockings and wig. Do you think that justifies your behavior. Of those like you. Do you actually think that this is what god had in mind.

How dare you call me judgemental. More like hateful. Disappointed. Let down. You and your kind are on this pedestal. You are supposed to be "chosen". You are supposed to be the pure ones. But instead you corrupt and pollute. Distort this religion. This is not what god intended. Not our tradition. You have created this world of us and them. And it's not ok. I refuse to subscribe to your distorted view. It's not authentic. Count me out.

You are lucky that there are people out there who save face. Who are kind. They don't look at my elbows. Or measure the length of my skirt. Their arms are open. Making this religion manageable for one small second. It's people like them that remind me that not everyone is like you. There is goodness and kindness. Generosity. They are non judgmental. And would never behave or speak the way you do. Their children are positive additions to society. And unlike you, they keep this religion going.

So go about your life. Be all high and mighty. Good luck with that.

Do you know who I am?

I write because I might explode. If I don't get certain thoughts out of my head, I'm not sure what I could do.

I come to see you and you barely show emotion. No recognition on your face. You sit in your chair and refuse to communicate. Do you know I'm here. Do you know who I am. 

You won't eat. You won't talk. Your family sits around you. Do you know who we are. Do you care. Do you realize that we have sacrificed our lives for you. Again. Constantly. Never ending. 

Do you realize that the roles are reversed. Have always been. That I take YOU to the bathroom. Force you to sit down. That I'm the one putting a diaper on YOU. Then I lay in bed with you and hold you. As you sleep in my arms, taking up a third of the bed and whimpering in your sleep. 

I wonder what you're thinking. Are their any thoughts in your head. Complete emptiness. Do you recognize me. Do you think I'm your mother. Are you used to me being your caretaker. Who else would do such things. Do you even know who I am. Do you trust just anyone. Are you slightly more comfortable with me. 

And I try not to let my mind wander. No thinking allowed. Feelings are not ok. Shut down. Tucked in a little corner. In the back of my head. In a crevice in my heart. I cannot choose me. Never the first priority. Must be strong. And take care of everyone else. That is my destiny. It's why I was placed on this earth. For you. For them. This is who I am. I am the way I am because of you. 

Do you know that. Do you know that you gave me life and then wrecked it. Do you know that I have nothing. Am nothing. For you. Because of you. Do you know. And now what. How long can this go on. How long can I fake this reality. This truth. Your truth. 

When do I get to have a mother.

My message to you

If one more person asks me how old I am and then tells me that my life is not over. That I should choose to make my life better. I'm going to scream. I can't bite my tongue anymore. Am I choosing to be miserable. Am I choosing this unhappiness. Do I have anything to show for myself. Do I have anyone to go home to. Am I wanted anywhere. Is it so easy for you to tell me to snap out of it. To get help. Go on medication. You have all the answers. And I'm once again a failure. You can call me a fair weather atheist. Whatever floats your boat. He can keep spitting in my face. Laughing at me and my pathetic life. Let the lightening strike I'm ready. I have a message for all of you. Fuck off.

Don't worry, this is about someone else

When you hang up and realize how alone you are

When tears of desperation spring from your face

When your friends call you to babysit their kid so they can watch a movie 

When your whole body hurts 

When you can't be bothered to get dressed 

When you wish you would die in your sleep

When you have your funeral planned 

When there's no hope 

When you are 80 years old 

When you are everyone's rock 

When you've stopped talking to everyone 

When you have nothing left to say 

When it all ends 

A Worthy Self

Here's where I stand. I'm Confused. And yes, I'm going to make this about me. This is about me. This is my life. I'm the only one who has my back. There is no one else looking out for me. I have to take care of myself. Call me selfish if you want. I don't care. It doesn't bother me. I'll accept that label. I deserve to be selfish. I have never chosen myself. I have always chosen everyone else. I have lived my life choosing everyone else. And I have put myself aside. I have never been important. But if I have learned anything in the last few years it's that I matter. That I am important. Just as much as everyone else. If not more.

It's my time. I have to choose me. If I don't make myself important, I won't survive much longer. I won't make it through this life. I will continue to feel broken and bruised. And I deserve better. I deserve. I am worthy. I matter. So I choose me. I must protect myself and make smart decisions.

I choose to do the right thing. I choose to be a good person. I choose to be alive. I choose to continue to fight. To fight to be happy. To function. And not let this life I've been handed knock me down. I choose not to drown in my misery. I'm choosing me. I choose to look forward. To have a future. Because I deserve everything. I deserve it all. I am worthy. I matter.

And I will put myself first one day. And maybe today is that day. This moment. Right now. I take the first step. And one day, hopefully soon, I will be loved for me. I will be accepted and appreciated. For me. Someone will know me and accept me. Me. For who I am. I will be cherished. And desired. Treasured. I will be special. I will matter to someone else.

It won't be a fairy tale and it won't be a happily ever after. It will be imperfect. But it will be my imperfect. A life for me. It will be my life. Because I matter. And I deserve. I deserve great things. And somewhere deep inside, I believe. I believe in goodness. I believe I deserve. I believe that good can happen. It can happen to me too. Because I am worthy. I matter.

So I choose me. I am taking a stand. I am doing the right thing. No matter how difficult. This is my life. And I will not watch it pass me by. I will not be a passive passerby. I will participate. And live this life the best way I can. The only way I know how. I will make smart choices. And I will get up when I fall. I will not let mistakes swallow me. I will stand up and dust myself off. And I will continue on. I choose me.

Suffocate me

I've scratched my legs so much, they're covered in scabs. My thighs are covered in bruises. My anxiety is getting the best of me. My mind has taken over. Thoughts control my life. The past suffocates me. People overwhelm me. I'm alone. Always alone. I'm sinking. The life boat is out of reach. I'm sick of swimming. My whole body hurts. My mind aches. I'm so tired. I need a vacation. From life. From myself. I want to be left alone. I want someone to hold me. Someone to notice. Someone to care. Please take this burden off my back. It's weighing me down. It's killing me. Slowly. Not quickly enough. I'm so tired. All alone. Always all alone. Love doesn't exist. Not accessible for everyone. Unattainable for me. Destined for misery. Pain and loneliness. Sadness. Numb without emotion. Alone. Strong for the world. Weak in my heart. Failure. Alone.

Say my Name

It's not often I feel euphoric. Is that even a word? It's been a stressful and long week. I haven't been sleeping. I have no appetite. I'm overwhelmed and possibly numb.

But tonight. For the first time in a long time. There was a spark. A glimpse. One tiny rainbow. She said my name. Some sort of recognition. I was remembered. Known. 

Many people have told me in the past that I lack proper respect. That I don't follow the laws of kibbud av v'em. The concept has aggravated me for years. Most people don't even know the meaning of respect. Of honoring ones parents. Most people have never been through what I have been through. 

Earlier, I went to the hospital. I forced her into the shower. She was screaming and fighting me. That's when she yelled my name. I was so happy. It was the first time. And then once the hot water was hitting her body, she was so calm and peaceful. She was so grateful. I cleaned her and washed her hair. I shaved the side of her hair so her cochlears won't fall off. Then I dried her off, put a diaper and hospital gown on. I took her back to bed and tucked her in.

That is my definition of respect. That is my duty and job as her daughter. This is my life. My responsibility. You can't understand. You can't relate. You can't judge me. You have no idea. You don't even know the half of it.

This is reality. 

Dripping With Anger

Really?

You're gonna say that I'm a bad influence?

You're gonna put this all on me?

I'm to blame for your behavior?

Are you kidding me?

Who keeps this family glued together?

Who makes sure everyone is taken care of?

Who? Who?

Who steps in when you decide to shut down?

And what have you done? 

You've shut yourself down

And you have the audacity to blame me!

Are you for real?

You can't even have a conversation

Instead you act like the toddler that you are

Avoid the people in your life

Your allies

Your support system 

Have I not been your sounding board for the last who knows how many years?

Have I not been the mother for your children that they never had?

Have I not stepped in for the wife that you never had?

Have I not been through hell in back and dealt with it alone?

Without parent

Without support 

Without love 

Alone!

Do you even know what I've been through?

What I've overcome?

Who I was and who I have become?

Do you know me at all??

I'm a bad influence? Really?!?

get out of my head

I have removed you from my life
You need to remove yourself from my dreams
Get out of my head
I'm sick of dreaming about you
I'm sick of you
Stop controlling me
It's not real
You are an illusion
You were always an illusion
Figment of my imagination
I created this image of you
You didn't exist
You were fake
You are fake
You are not real
Get out of my head
Leave me alone
Leave me be
I need to breathe
You are still suffocating me
You don't exist
These dreams are not real
I am not crazy
You can't take over me anymore
You are not real
Get out of my head

Good-Bye Again

D. 

I write this with a heavy heart. I try to be a kind person and contrary to what some might say, I don't like hurting people. I try to be gentle and cautious with other people's feelings and hearts. So telling you this is not easy. I don't mean to cause you more harm. And it hurts me that I have to do this. But at this point I don't feel there's any better option.

I can't watch you ruin your life. I can't be a part of your life. You have continued to make poor decisions and for some reason they affect me. When I ended things the first time, I did it in a vindictive and nasty way. I was angry then. I hated you. I felt you ruined my life. I was over-dramatic. And I spent so much time willing you not to exist. Erasing the past. Pretending it never happened. It was the right thing to end it. I did it in the only way I knew how. But it was wrong how I did it. I couldn't be sensitive then. 

And then a few years ago I decided the only way I could actually forgive you and move on was to talk to you. To bring up the past. Hear your take. Analyze things to death. And to forgive you. I forgave you. I forgive you. But I have never forgiven myself. Talking about those days takes me back. It won't let me move. It makes it hard for me to function. It's an unnecessary distraction.

I fight every day to be happy. To be healthy. And talking to you is not helping my goal. It's pushing me back. Causing me harm. I'm truly sorry for what you are going through. And while I know I could probably help you and be there for you. You have never been able to be there for me. And now I have to choose me, once again. I have to say good bye. This time I say it in a soft and gentle way. I say it with concern and care. For both of us. But I can't sink. I must choose to swim. Even if that means I'm causing you to drown without me.

Good bye,

R