Lost

 I think I feel very lost right about now. I feel trapped, like I can't find my way out in every aspect of my life. It sucks.

I just want things to go somewhat okay, I want a break. I want something good to happen. I don't like the way the world is going, or the way that vanity disgusts me. I hop on instagram and just see everyone boasting about themselves or their lives, at all the right angles. And here I am, bathing in the raw life of my emotions. Everyday I am sad, and living day by day. Everyday I have to fight myself to wake up in the morning, to see the sun outside. Most days I can't even bring myself to leave my house before 5 p.m.. I get so engulfed in my grief, and despair it hurts. It hurts to leave my bed or my couch, so much so that I forfeit myself on a daily basis. I forfeit my job, my hygiene, and my health. I torture myself. I constantly consume media of the past life where my brother once existed in. I feel in order for me to honor him, I have to suffer. I have to be sad every single day, otherwise I'm not doing right by him. I'm not sure if that's right or wrong, but I have people tell me every other day that "he wouldn't want to see you this way". That's great and all but you don't know that, I don't know that. None of us know that because he's dead, he's gone, he cannot give us any answers. So for now, suffering it is.

I feel the western culture waters down death so much. It's not a big deal, it's something that happens and you are forced to 'get over'. Which I think is such a shitty concept. What about their legacy? Why do you want to forget them? I feel like we live in such a vain and self absorbed world, that anything that is messy is a burden. If it's not fitting into the pretty picture, or this fabricated reality online that they conjured up for their followers...then they don't want any part of it. Which is cruel. If it throws off the aesthetic they are going for, then they don't want any part of it. Which is grief. Grief is nasty, mucky, dirty, raw, true, real, sad, happy, mad, mean, and just full of despair sometimes. You don't know what you're going to get, ever. Moment by moment things can change. I'll be driving in the car singing along to a song, then I will pass that part of the freeway where I got the news that my brother passed. I will try to contain my tears, but for him I usually can't. I will let myself cry, and feel. Even on Mothers Day (which was yesterday), I was on the couch resting and I just got this giant wave of sadness and started crying. I was looking at pictures of him, and then just started hugging my phone because I just wish it could've been him.

I am not a pretty picture in anyway, shape, or form. I am a mess, I am unconventional. Who I am just feels like a burden to all. I am just a giant ball of sadness, and melancholy. I am a pessimist. I don't see the greener grass on the other side, or the sun shining through the clouds. I see the darkness in everything. I see how short life is. I see how cruel people can be. I see how people you thought cared about you can simply turn their backs on you because your sadness is making them feel weird. I watched my brother build up his life for himself and his daughters only to be taken from them. My brother had full custody of his baby, and he was taken from her. There's no, 'Everything happens for a reason' ass reason for this to have happened. Now his daughters are fatherless, and the daughter that he had custody of is now in the hands of the mother that abandoned her. She's now in the hands of the woman who would talk about how much she hated her baby. Now his daughter is in a house of neglect, and abuse. Can you tell me what God would let that happen? She was fine right where she was at, with her routine and her little life. She was happy, especially when she was around him. I watched my brother change. Mana was abandoned, and left. I think that woke something up in my brother and it made him change his life as much as he could. I got to watch him, take care of her on his own. Have a home for her, make meals for her, bathe her, take her places. I got to watch him do all of this on his own, which not many dads do. Their bond was beautiful. Him being taken from her, is what hurts me the most. Melody has Michelle, she always had Michelle. Mana just had my brother as her constant. I don't think anyone understands how truly heartbreaking that was for my family. He didn't deserve to die. There was nothing my brother had done that had merited death. He lost his apartment and had me take over the rent, he lost everything, got his car repossessed, lost his job. He spent those months at my parents house doing his best to get everything back. Which he did. He got his job, got his car back in order, made a shit tone of money, stopped going out so much, focused on his health, he was reading books about making himself better, and he was gonna move back to his apartment. That February, he had just taken his girls and Eve to the snow for a weekend trip out of town. My brother documented everything via snapchat (which I never understood) so he sent us everything during his trip. It was so sweet to see, his baby girls were so happy. I just didn't understand. I still don't. 

I think seeing my mom suffer so much is what kills me the most. I know my mom and I don't have the best relationship, or she hates me or whatever. It still kills me to see her suffer, to see her in so much pain. There's nothing in the world that I could do or buy that will ease her pain or even make her feel better. I always throw myself at serving my parents, whether it be making food or just doing things to try and make their life a little easier. I just don't want them to strain themselves in any type of way because they are impaired enough as it is. I know I will never be able to take their pain away, but If I can't do that I at least wanted to make the rest of their days as smooth and easy as possible for them. Being here everyday in this new life, in this new reality without their first born son is terrible enough. I wish I simply had the means to take all their worries away. So they could spend the rest of their days here doing what they love, and enjoy themselves when they are able to. My dad spends his days keeping busy at work and with my niece Marilyns sports stuff. While my mom keeps herself busy with her grandkids. I don't see much time for them to grieve. It comes oozing out and bursting at the seems when they have held it in for too long. Everyone deals with it, and stores their grief differently. I don't take anything from my parents personally. To me they have a lifetime pass after what has happened. My brother was truly my mom's baby boy. I only have girls myself so I will never understand the whole 'mother son bond'. I know it's different. I seen it all my life with my brother and my mom. I don't mean that in a passive aggressive way, but truly she would do anything for him. My mom has been the believer in our family. Loyal to her church and God. Tithing every single week, even when we had nothing. She is a devout Christian. Reads her. bible every night before bed after her shower. She answers all the problems we've ever brought to her with, "pray about it". Just guiding us back to God. All I could think of was her when my brother died. After all the 'special tithes', all the loyalty and faithfulness to god, and her son was still taken from her? I was confused. I had little faith to begin with, but after the passing of my brother it completely diminished. Still after the passing of my brother, my mom continued to take bad things constantly happening. It just doesn't make sense to me. Where is God? Where was God? What did we do to make you take him from our lives? What sin did she or we commit to allow this to happen? My mother still prays, and she still goes to church. She still has faith which I will never be able to understand why. I watched God sit back and do nothing while this happened. I watched him sit back and watch Mana suffer, and Melody scream out "My dad, NOT MY DAD, WHY MY DAD, WHERES MY DAD", I can still hear her cries from that day.

Whatever faith I had left, went with my brother. Now I'm just hurt. God can't bring back my brother, then what is the point. I am angry more than I am anything else. It may rot me from the inside out, but that's fine. Therapy isn't going to bring back my brother, praying isn't going to bring back my brother, and that's the issue. He's gone. There's nothing anyone or anything can do to fix this. That's the reality I live in everyday. That's what I wake up to every single morning, and go to sleep with every single night. The fact that my brother isn't here anymore. Now I get to sit back and watch the world carry on without him. I get to watch what bar this person is drinking at, I get to see how so and so got a new bbl, I get to see how so and so's follower count went up, or what so and so ate for breakfast. None of that shit matters, that's not real life. You know what is real life? I stopped going to EOS because I thought I seen my brother in the mirrors and started crying on the treadmill. My brothers burnt subi sitting in the backyard of my grandpas house. Or my mom unusable to park in the same place at work because that's where she got the news of my brother's death. I can keep going, especially about his girls. My point is I am just disgusted with society. The things that we put on pedestals, the things that 'matter' to us on social media. All vanity, all self-absorbed. Because death/grief is too much work to deal with. It does not look good for you to grieve, or even be around someone that's sad because they will 'ruin the vibes'. Lucky you. Lucky you, to not have this everlasting pain. Consider yourself privileged. I don't wish this on anyone, so abruptly. It was a thief in the night. We didn't even get to say good bye.

Anyways, I just needed to get somethings off of my chest.