nighttime in the sleepless garden

It’s getting late and I need to sleep. Unfortunately, sleep doesn’t seem to be an option right now. My heart is pounding and I’m breathlessly counting the minutes as I worry about not being able to sleep.

Some nights feel so lonely. Not for companionship or intimacy. Not that he and I were intimate. As I’ve said before, I couldn’t allow that, even once, or it wouldn’t have stopped. This lonely is very solitary in its manifestation,  having nothing to do with anyone, or anything, but me. I’m very depressed lately. Possibly at the lowest point of my entire life. Nobody knows, but me. And now, you. I’ve been tormented by depression since I was about four years old. That’s my earliest recollection of this feeling. I actually tried to kill myself at that age. I was unsuccessful, obviously. I tried to drown myself in the bathtub. lol! You can’t drown your own self in a tub like that. But I didn’t know. And I tried and tried. Each time, I’d come up clawing for air because I’d been holding my breath. I didn’t understand drowning. I thought that, if you just held your breath long enough, the water took you away with it. I hated myself for that failure. Especially in years to come after.

I’m not suicidal now, but suicide has always walked very near to me, as it does with most depressives. Another thing nobody knows. I’ve tried to explain it to my mother, but that was an exercise in futility. You cannot explain something like that to those who value life above all else. I value life above all else, as long as you’re not referring to my own life. And, yes, that makes perfect sense to me.

I feel like he’s here tonight, just beyond my sight. I’m worried. Worried that he may not be happy with me. What can he do about it if he’s not? Nothing, I suppose. Maybe it’s just the pain making me feel so low and so cold tonight. I’m hurting from head to toe and nothing seems to take the edge off. I’m still fighting the guilt of not knowing that I could have stopped those freaks at the hospital much sooner. I just didn’t know I had that authority. They didn’t tell me until they’d finished their last attempts at creating life as though they were God, Himself. Those sorry bastards. I’ve never met more low down people in my life. The cream of the crop, every one. And, every one, a person I’d not turn my back on. It’s difficult to imagine that they reserve their perverse obsession with power to their life at the hospital. I don’t wish anything bad on them, but I don’t wish them well. I wish that I’d never met any of them.

I just can’t believe he’s gone and I’m all the boys have now. Me. Shit. What a raw deal. I hope that they understand that I’m not going to mourn their father forever. I made that decision a few days ago and it’s sinking in, I think. I told Jay that I will date as soon as I feel ready and, if he doesn’t want to hear his mother getting pounded by some cowboy, he really needed to get busy finding a trailer. Yes. I said that to my son. Because he doesn’t understand subtlety or polite chat when it comes to things that are important. As far as he’s concerned, they can live in this little house with me and we’ll just be a happy family who watches movies together and cooks together and all this commune bullshit him and his friends do. Fuck. That. Shit. So, knowing the last thing any son wants to think of is his mother bumping uglies with some jackass she picked up at the bar, (something I’d never do, by the way, but he doesn’t need to know that), that’s what I told him it would be like here pretty soon. Because I really missed SEX. Emphasis on the word ‘sex’. I thought he was actually going to throw up. The poor kid looked like I just kicked him in the balls. lol! But, he and his woman did get busy looking for trailers. For awhile there, I was the only one, and it seemed to be expected that I take care of everything. I do feel a little bad for telling him what I did, though. But you gotta meet people on their level, I guess.

I’ve been driving myself crazy trying to pick out new dishes and flatware. I’m trying to start fresh, making this MY house and not OUR house anymore. It’s hard to do. I don’t know why, but it is. I’m still thinking of building the tiny house I wanted when he was alive. We worked out the plans for it and everything. But that’s a lot of extra expense. If I put that money into this house, it would be exactly what I want and would be different enough to feel like a new house. Everywhere I look in this place, I see him. It drives me insane. And, on nights like this, I feel him. I’m sure it’s my imagination. There’s nothing here but the girls and I and the vantablack night beyond the window. I hope…


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