She says she wants me to write how I feel when I get overcome. I don’t think she understands how hard it is to deal with me when I get overcome though. It is crippling. It is hard to function or even breathe. Harder to put to words.
I don’t like to feel like this, in fact I hate it. It has happened several times in my life. It always lasts a couple of years. I call it The Funk.
I think this one has already been happening for two years. In fact, it has been the most difficult one. Because this time it was different. This time it was my actions that started it. And it has just steamrolled from there. It cripples me at times. Not all of it has been my own doing though. Life has a bad sense of humor.
Most recently, it has been my cousin’s death. It has ripped my guts out. She was the one of us that should have lived. She was needed more than me. Her kid is alone now. All alone. No person should have to go through all of the shit she went through. Especially those last three years. It was inhumane. Anyone that needed me, would have been okay without me. What this has left for her daughter is just so unfair and fucked up.
And I know that is crazy talk. I know that fate doesn’t decide who goes and who stays based upon who is the most needed soul. I know that. But it doesn’t change that feeling. It doesn’t change the guilt that I feel. It doesn’t change the perpetual sadness that I feel. For being happy with my life. With my girlfriend. For being happy my mom made it through chemo. (Hers didn’t). Even fucking cancer seemed to favor me.
Complications from diabetes took her dad. He even ate right and took his medicine. My dad has diabetes and has done nothing he was supposed to do, yet he is still ticking along at 81. Her heart just gave the fuck out. My rotten lungs were supposed to have quit by now. Yet, here I sit typing away.
Not one bit of this has been fair. And yes, life isn’t fair. Not at all. But, it is also very unfair to certain people, more than others, and I don’t get that.
Last year, sitting at hospice with her mom, my career hanging in the air, I remember sitting in that room and thinking my entire world was on the cusp of falling slam apart. And then I thought “you stupid piece of shit. This woman is dying by the hour, painfully. You are about to get fired. Who has been dealt the shitty hand here?” And then I felt guilty for being sad about MY situation when there was shit that MATTERED to be sad about.
I think that is what has been gnawing at me. Guilt. Fucking useless emotion but a very real one nonetheless. And right now, it eats at me. And I don’t know how to make it stop. All of the other times I got like this, I was filled with anger, sadness, and self- loathing pity. This one has been the same, but with a double shot of guilt thrown in the mix.
I’ve always been the jerk that had “potential” but zero ambition, or willpower to even try to live up to that potential. And I think a lot of what I feel right now, is just a manifestation of all of the regret that I feel for pissing (drinking) away 25 years of my life when I have been given plenty of opportunity to better, to do more, to do a lot. I’ve been very lucky in many ways, and I’ve not taken advantage of those opportunities.
And, I am still alive. Unlike my cousin who was smarter, stronger, better than me. That did not have those same opportunities. Even though she deserved them.
She was a far better cousin to me than I was to her. And I hate that. I regret that. And now I can’t change that.
So, now I sit around making her death all about me. Because that is easier that pulling my big girl panties up I guess.