It Hurts...

I think you can all imagine the feelings going through my head.
I've been to many funerals in my life, lost a lot of loved ones, but I've never had someone viciously taken from me.

It's hard not to imagine the scene, as much as I don't want to. Every time I close my eyes I have visions of my father and a 12 gauge staring at him in.

The hardest part is knowing he died that way. He died at one of the happiest times in his life. He died with two giant gaping holes in his stomach and no one to comfort him at the hospital.

It's sickening. It makes my chest hurt. I can't cry anymore, I can't breathe, and I can't sit still..

And the woooorst part?

I haven't even seen his body yet. I have an eerie feeling about the moment I step into Sturino's funeral home. It's going to be the hardest thing in my life. And I just hope I take enough perscription meds not to fall over completely... but I'm pretty sure I will.

Aside from the normal numbness, I have to admit - I'm furious. Oddly enough it's not with the others involved. It's the news.

The media has failed me. It has exploited my Dad's murder, printed false information, printed unnecessary information, and turned it into just an article.

The one thing I learned from all of this public circus is that.. life goes on. Just like we watch the news every day and hear another murder... this ones no different. It's what we are. It's the animalistic instinct inside of us to turn the page and write off a tragedy.. And now that it's finally hit home? No words..

It's hard reading the hard facts from a paper when no one in my family wants to tell me themselves. I didn't know the murderer used a shot gun. I didn't know he wasn't in custody right away. And I NEVER knew my father suffered enough to be transported to a hospital.

With all the details put in place, and a foul taste in my mouth, it still wasn't enough to read an article describing the scene at the hotel..

"there was blood splattered all over the grass"

And that is when I lost it.

I am petrified. Petrified of staring at my father's lifeless body. I have no idea if my body can withstand that. In fact, I'm pretty sure it can't. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna fall over, go limp, throw up, scream... and cry? Do I have any tears left?

I just don't know what I'm gonna do...

Grandma B

Once in a blue moon I'll drift off to sleep and dream about her. I have to say, I wish I could dream about her more often...
The dream fell along the normal 'nightmare' path.. someone trying to kill me. I ended up catching them and turning them into the police and after a long brawl I went home. I couldn't sleep so at 1am I called my grandma and stayed with her. And when I woke up, I realize thats what I've truly been missing... just some quality time with the person who loved me most. I miss being able to call her at all hours and just vent and having her comforting voice on the other end.

It's been two years..
At this time in '06 she was in "Select" - a horrible wing of St. Luke's Hospital in Milwaukee. It's where most of the damage was done. I'd visit her and on some days she was hysterical.. she thought she was in prison and asked me to take her home. She would yell at scream and not have any clue what was going on. Those were some of the most emotional months for me.. I used to leave the hospital bawling..

I've struggled with analyzing how her death has really affected me..and I haven't quite gotten an answer. I know it's part of how messy the last few years of my life have been.. I can't say that I've made any positive movement since she passed away.. I've just been very reactionary. I wonder what that means?

I've promised myself to make good use out of this move. I'm dedicating my time here to *finding myself*. I've been through a lot of therapy and medications but it's about time I get a significant grasp on things. If not for me.. for Grandma B.

Powerful Stuff...

Saturday was my first day of training for the Sexual Assualt Services volunteer program I am participating in. Eight whole hours of facts and questions and even a little pizza..

It was an astonishing eye opener. I used to consider myself educated and aware and until this afternoon I didn't realize how wrong I was.. There are so many statistics that shocked me. There is so much information I was unaware of. And lastly, it killed me to see how I feed the negative stereotypes that keep sexual assault victims in the dark. My thought process is/was a little backwards and I truly look forward to altering my views and then spreading positive education to everyone I know..

The meeting also touched me on some serious levels.... I had no idea the emotions I had suppressed. No idea...
I look forward to exploring those emotions and hopefully using my new knowledge to get my own demons out. I'm pretty sure they're the reason I'm in therapy. Finally.. years and years later.. I'm starting to open up and it feels good to breathe easier..