akira's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- better late then never a part of me will always be with you I guess no one takes death well. It's not suprising really. I dealt (for lack of a better word) with death the first time when I lost J, or I tought I did. I went through the typical emotions. I was mad, sad, in denial, etc. But this..what I'm feeling now..it's not like then. I've been trying to figure out how to explain it. I feel like if I can convince myself it's just a "normal" emotion then my ability to think rationally, or my sanity will come back to me. ... When I was 9 I tried to kill myself. It was after I realized that my daddy's "sickness" was because he was drinking himself to death, and my mom's "friend" was more then that (he later turned out to be her b/f until the end). I came home from school, parental units still at work, I went into my daddy's medicine cabinet and got all of his helper pills, 12 bottles - various kinds, I put them all in my pocket and went into my bedroom. For some reason I started my homework. I think I wanted them to be proud that I finished my homework first, I dunno. My parents came home around 6pm, we ate dinner, talked, watched Three's Company. I took my shower, got ready for bed, kissed them goodnight, and went to bed. I remember crying myself to sleep because I was going to miss them SO much. At 3am I got up, went downstairs with all the pills and a glass of water. It seemed like it took forever to take all of the pills, it was so cold down there I was shaking (I think it was from the cold at least). I curled up next to the heater vent, quietly saying goodbye to my mommy and daddy. After about a half an hour I fell asleep. The last thing I remember was a sharp pain in my ribs, like someone kicked me. Then I woke up in the ER with some big white guy shoving something in my nose, then throwing up black stuff all over the nurses. They kept me for evaluation that night but my dad refused to let them keep me longer then that night. My mom stayed with me that night, we stayed up talking. She wanted to know what she and my dad had done to make me want to leave them so badly. I told her I didn't want to leave them, I felt like I had to go away. I found out tonight, the pain I felt in my ribs, was my dad trying to get me to breath. We talked about that night for the first time ever tonight. He asked me if I did that because he was a bad father, because he drank. I told him no, I did it because I was sad inside. Because everytime I took a breath my heart hurt, because when most people slept in peace, I didn't. I floated above my life in a haze. Now 20 years later my dad realizes. Hey better late then never. It's never to late to learn. Ave )O( Akira - 3 * ? * 01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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