Solitude…

So, it all started like… 6-7 years ago. I was 8 or 9 and it was winter. I lived with my mom, my dad and my sister Hillary. We had decided to go on a family sledding adventure to the park, whoopie. So things in my family we’re…. okay. My father loved my mother and she loved him, and they loved us and we loved them. Woopie love, anyways. My dad was and still is a strict rather irritatingly pesimistic father, like many parents are. He sometimes would hurt my sister, not alot but enough to make her cry, and make me scared. My mother usually wasn’t around when he did anything. But like i said it wasn’t too bad, but pain is never good so yeah. Anyways while we we’re sledding my mother crashed over a bump and fell, we brought her to the hospital and they discovered she had cancer. A terminal kind, one that couldn’t be cured one that was deep inside her bones. Since i was young i didn’t really understand i was just scared because everyone was crying and worried. So my mom stayed in the hospital for three weeks, christmas time too that sucked. I kept thinking i would come home from school one day and find she wasn’t there that she had died. But she didn’t, she came home. Every month at one point she would go to the clinic for something, and she started losing her hair, kimo therapy i think it was called, i wasn’t told. So my mom wore a wig till her hair grew back, blah blah she never seemed to be in pain and the thought of her death left my mind. Then at some point she started getting worse, she’d have to go into the clinic more often. Then it escalated to every week she was tierd, frusterated and short tempered, which wasn’t like her. My father of course was frantic with worry and so even more strict and unkind. Then the summer of 1008, i was 14 my sister 18 my mother 59 and my father 63. ((I was adopted so their age wasn’t as creepy to me)). My mom  was doing very badly and when August hit she never got better.  She was on this medication called thelidamide and it caused these huge boils to form on her legs, boils that hurt alot. Like after she got a few she couldn’t get out of bed without screaming. Her tempurature rose and fell alot so my sister and i we’re woken up sometimes in the middle of the night to go get cold packs or ice. My father was stressed he loved my mom SO much she was his life. My mom was admitted to the hospital and she slowly got a bit better we brought her home and she slowly started to walk again with a walker. That didn’t last. She got bad again even though they took her off the thelidimide, she had this pickline in her arm for needles and it got infected so they tried to move it to her chest, dumb idea. My mom’s blood then got infected, and on top of that one or both of her kidneys died. I didn’t know what half of this ment. I just knew it was bad. Then in the last week of November or such she was put in the hospital again about the 10th time since august. The doctors asked if she wanted them to stop all the medicine and procedures so she could die [eacefully she said yes and so  she never came out of the hospital, my mother died on December 4th 2008. When she died, i wasn’t with her my dad and sister and granparents and aunt/uncle we’re i couldn’t. I had seen her the day or so before. Anyways, so my mother died. It was weird i didn’t really get it, well i did but it didn’t hit right away. My dad was in pieces, but internally of course. My sister had her boyfriend Ryan with her all the time they had been going out for 3 years? More? So they we’re close, he helped her get through it so she wasn’t alone and thats good. My dad had his son’s my 28 and 30 yr. old step-brothers whom i hadn’t seen too many times. And my dad had his cousin Byron and my aunt and uncle etc. But me, i didn’t have anyone with me. The day of her wake we stayed at the funeral home from like… 9 AM to 9 PM. The whole day i spent just about alone. I didn’t have a boyfriend, and i thought i had friends, but… i they didn’t care enough. Tons of people asked if i was okay, but ya know they didn’t really want to hear if i was okay they just asked cause its the right thing to do.  So i said i was fine and okay, of course they smiled and walked away. They must have known i wasn’t okay though… duh. One of my close friends was suicidal at the time and just about since september when i met her.  Her name was Stephanie or Steph, so she trusted me to tell me, and i tried to help. I was there for her and i always will be there for anyone who needs me. And she was there for me until she started being extremely suicidal then i didn’t talk about my mother or my father’s temper problems or my lonelyness. I stopped telling her things and focused on helping her with her life. So who did i have.. i didn’t have anyone. I couldn’t go to my dad, pffft, he was dieing on his own inside. I didn’t know how to help him. So i distanced myself from my family. And my friends… they distanced themselves from me, i had never been the center of attention in my group of friends in fact i was barely talked to it was always about Stephanie.  So until May 2009 i was dead inside. I told no one but i had changed, i lost the will to smile all the time and be hyper and giggle and be inmature because it was fun. I became quieter and i wasn’t me. On the first of may i met a guy named Derek. I really liked him and started hanging out with him and his friends. I think i was so eager to hang out with Derek because he didn’t know my past he wouldn’t think i was broken or changed because he didn’t know how i used to be. He wouldn’t question my personality, he wouldn’t say sorry everytime he mentioned his mother. So i hung out with Derek, my friend Tamara and a few others. Then after awhile of teaing and flirting Derek and i started dating, i was happy, i had never had a boyfriend before and Derek was my first kiss. When summer came i was nervous because last summer had been so bad and i didn’t like summer because it ment distance from Derek, from school – my escape from my home. After about a month, so end of july beginning of August i broke up with Derek. I broke up with him because i was coming out, my inside my hurt my pain was seeping out and i didn’t want him to see it. My home life sucked. I know parents are supposed to be nagging and stuff, but my dad. At one point my dad even blamed my sister and i for my mom’s death, he said we worked her too hard she did too much so she died. All growing up my dad made my sister and i feel like we wern’t good enough like we had to be more like our mother. Even now it’s implied in everything he says. Anyways so i left Derek and it hurt SO much because i couldn’t explain. To make long stories that don’t mean much short. Right now it’s October 28th, 2009. It hasn’t been a year since i lost my mother and a day doesn’t go by where i don’t miss her.  Tamara my one friend is extremely suicidal this year and it hurts me, Stephanie i’ve lost contact with but shes okay now 🙂 and Derek and i are on the verge of going out again ish but hes distant and i think its because i hurt hoim and i don’t know how to explain. It’s come to a point at home where i can’t stand SEEING my dad or sister without wanting to die. I hate listening to them, seeing them and even knowing there in the same buidling. It’s bad. I hate my home, and i feel alone. All the time. Even if i’m hanging out at school, i feel alone. And being alone is my greatest fear. I need someone who isn’t tierd of listening to me… I am alone and i can’t do this anymore… I am SO tierd of living like this, i know it’s selfish and i’m better off than lots of people. I know… but i can’t stand it. I want to die, i want to die so i can see my friends and family cry, i want to see them sad, and angry i want to see them react to my death, i guess i just want to see how much they really care. I don’t know what to do right now, i want to die. But i want to live so i can be with Derek and somehow fix what i’ve done. I want to live so i can make happy times live agian… i want to live so my mother doesn’t see me so soon. I believe in God but i don’t feel him there for me like i know he is. I feel alone and cold and sad and broken and dead and like i just can’t do this anymore. I don’t know what to do. I listen to music all the time it keeps me thinking but i can’t do this. I can’t live like this anymore… and the funny thing is i know i will do this. I probaly won’t die i’ll go through this over and over. I can’t do this and yet somehow i know i will anyways… I hurt alot, and i know tons of other people do to. I wish i could take it all away…