Irritated.

I feel like shit.
I feel fat and lazy.
Because I missed a day of exercise.

I can't even get my own goddamn sister to hang out with me.
I haven't showered in forever.
I'm sore.
I'm greasy.
I'm tired.
I can't sleep.
I miss Connor, I miss my friends, I miss when I was happy.

I'm whining, and I don't give a flying fuck.

Without my Mom, my life doesn't make sense.

So we talked on the phone.
And got in a fight.
Then he apologized, and talked on the phone, then hung up, saying he'd call me back.

This happened three times.

Then he got his phone taken away.

I need him.
I need him so fucking badly, and that's the best I get.

I'm going insane.

I'm so tired of feeling awful.

And so lonely.

I'm so very

frustrated right now.

And I realize when dealing with something as enormous as death, frustration seems like a pretty pitiful emotion. But it's true. I am so ungodly frustrated.

I'm being punished for something I don't really understand. I'm not a petulant child or anything, I can accept punishment. I just honest to god don't understand what I did wrong. It was supposedly a "second time offense," but when I asked, Dad couldn't come up with a first time. His best option was "I shouldn't have to keep track." If I'm being punished Dad, you kind of do. I spent the night at Connor's house, which he said was fine, as long as I let people know. I let Julie know. I kept the car, and yes, that was a mistake, but there are two other cars at home, and Alison got to work fine.


But apparently that wasn't enough, and I'm out of a cell phone for two weeks.

Which is even more irritating, because Connor is leaving for Gulf Shores tomorrow morning. And I hate myself for becoming so reliant on him, but I didn't really have a choice. If I didn't lean on loved ones, I'd probably be a hell of a lot worse off right now. But anyway, this vacation is coming precisely when I need him the most, but of course it'd be way too selfish to stop him. So given that he's going, his regular good night phone calls just became a lot more important. For better or for worse, I need him. And because of this Dad shit, it's a hell of a lot harder to get a hold of me.

And I have a really hard time taking this from Dad. Because Mom would have never done that. She wasn't much a punisher, but she also treated us with respect. And it's hard after she basically raised me for seventeen years, having my Dad swoop in and suddenly tell me what I can and can't do.

And I'm so tired of not knowing what I'm allowed to do or say, and walking on eggshells.
It's just all so goddamn frustrating.

I have no

motivation.
feelings.
energy.
vigor.
power.
life.

I'm too exhausted to break down.
I'm too exhausted to be alive anymore.

Dear Mom,

We love you.

I'm sorry you were in so much pain.
And I'm sorry your body failed you.
I know you fought has hard as you possibly could, and that means the world.
I also know you wouldn't want our lives to fall apart, and I promise you, they won't.

You're free, and you're at peace now.
And we love you so, so much.

Barbara Ellen Knarr
February 16, 1950 - May 29, 2008

And...

It's gone.