things that are important to me.

my boys.

making a life for us somewhere else.

painting.

understanding and realizing i'm being negative (before it comes to fruition). shutting that shit down.

talking to the boys with love and understanding (even when i don't think i can).

taking those moments and turning them into something good.

if i don't show/teach them what is right and wrong, who the fuck will.

i sometimes forget you have to teach even the smallest of things. things you don't think you need to...you really do.

letting go of my anger toward james' family.

not sure i can do it. but i need to.

being able to sleep again.

being excited about life again.

i miss that.

looking forward to a time when i'm not so up and down.

wanting to get on with my life...yet not being fully able to do so.

watched dan with the boys tonight.

it was nice. made me smile.

he is a good man.

day two of no chocolate and no coke.

yeah...uh...i'm rethinking that.

i really really like coke. and chocolate.

things i have been thinking about.

i need a cool ride like this.

tattoos.

i want a chocolate chocolate chip frap but...uh...

yeah....i decided to give up chocolate.

AND coke. wtf am i thinking?!

i am sure i will come to my senses tomorrow.

i hate days when the temp is over 75 degrees.

even 75 is pushing it. i'm good at 70.

i like rain.

the question is, how much rain is too much.

how hard it's been to do the yoga/breathing stuff therapist dude asked me to do every night.

i seem to have trouble focusing.

there's a surprise.

the upcoming week.......

and another road trip this weekend.

we've been on the road the last couple days.

i just spent the last 30 minutes rocking alexander back and forth.
alexander was......he was....broken.
sadness and anger poured out of him.
he cried.
i cried.
he kept saying over and over, 'i miss my daddy. i miss my daddy. why did the virus attack daddy's heart. i miss him. i don't see him anymore.'
it is more than i can stand.
more than any little boy should have to go through.
my entire body is shaking.
i am cold.
and sick to my stomach.
what is fair about this?!
now, in this second, i am angry.
not at james.
at the fact my boys do not have james.
this has been the hardest part for me.
not being able to take away their pain.
their sadness.
i cannot make this better for them.
and fuck i wish i could.
yes...tomorrow is another day.
i can show them life goes on.
that we can live a good, happy life.
but honestly, my heart is not in it.
i am just going through the motions.
hoping that that will be enough until i can fully mean it.
now i'm gettin my shit together.
time to put the boys to bed.

6 advil and 4 tylenol pm.

my eyes hurt bad.
they burn.
from being tired and a not so great last two days.
saw therapist dude today.
his first question to me, "have you picked up a brush?"
uh....no.
want to. just can't make myself do it. don't know why.
came to a realization yesterday.
as much as jan has done for me, as much as our friendship has grown, there is a point.
a point where her primary family comes first. and my boys come second.
the logical and analytical side of me is down with that. understands that that's how it is.
the emotional side of me (which i try to avoid and detest) is a bit hurt. rightly or wrongly. it is what it is.
it made me realize that me and me alone is wholly responsible for the boys.
and that pretty much fucken scares me.
as much as i hate it (and i fucking do)....for me to take a trip by myself, i will need to rely on someone else. to care for my children.
guess it's a matter of how important a weekend away is to me.
how badly do i fucken want to figure out where i want to live.
been relying too heavily on jan (and dan and rachael).
dialed it down.
this half-ass walkin around in a fucken daze shit is killin me.
when i paint i am messy.
like, scary kind of messy.
and i am down with it.
haven't painted with oil in so long.
haven't painted anything in so long.
the james dying thing...it's pretty much shaken me to my core.
therapist dude wants me to try some special brething techniques (yoga style) tonight before i go to bed.
maybe that, the 6 advil i just took and the 4 tylemol pm will be enough for me to sleep.

lkdkfjdkdkfjfj

alexander at mackerricher. may 2009.
he looks so grown up.
a glimpse of the kid he will become.

i do not like relying on other people.

packing up what i'm gonna move.

getting rid of what i can't take.

which mostly means james' things.

it's a harsh process.

taking a little trip by myself.

boys will stay with dan and jan.

working out the details.

going back to a place i've already been to.

to fucking see if i can figure out if it's where i want to be.

used to be able to trust my judgment.

now i second guess myself. constantly. wtf.

so much of me used to be james.

all that i felt for him. that i still feel for him. but now it has nowhere to go.

i'm afraid at some point i will want someone in my life.

i have strong feelings...about everything...all the time (and that is no fucking shit)....and at some point....i'm afraid i won't be able to stop it.

and that's gonna suck.

because i don't want it.

but i am afraid i will.

and i won't be able to stop it.

psycho-therapy much?

i don't want it because when i do things...i just fucken jump in.

and i don't want to be that connected to another human. ever again.

need to decide where to live.

forward fucken motion man.

fucken gotta have it.

eoeoaslfeoeo

i'm not good at waiting.

and i never will be.

i haven't been to starbucks in 3 weeks.

can't stop listening to dave matthews.

have something i need to do.

but in doing it, i might fuck up a relationship i don't want to fuck up.

i'm really not good at waiting. or did i mention that already.

indecision fucking kills me. HATE it.

talkin about where i'm gonna move to here...

in most other decisions i'm quick.

the reason i haven't painted isn't because "i can't".

painting used to be my refuge.

it carried me away...i got lost...hours went by like minutes.

but now i'm empty.

and exhausted.

that excitement...that rush....it's gone.

that is why i can't paint.

i think that bums me out more than anything.

the thing that used to jack me up....now...it does nothing for me.

somehow i have to fix that.

how do i readjust to me being enough.

it all just seems pointless.

i used to have something good.

how do you go from that to nothing.

i want to be satisfied to sit in front of the computer late at night.

jam to some tunes.

or watch a movie.

and have that be enough.

sometimes it is...but i need it to be enough all the time.

in the times when it isn't enough, that is when i am likely to get myself into trouble.

and do something i shouldn't do.

it's a gipsy kings kind of night.

saw therapist dude today.
now i have a headache.
related? um.....yeah.
he has decided to focus less on the boys.
and more on me.
thinkin that's not a good sign.
just sayin.
i told him i think i'm depressed.
that i am exhausted when i wake up (when i can sleep) and i'm exhausted when i go to bed.
he doesn't think i'm manic/depressive.
i sometimes wonder.
he says i am event depressed.
he didn't know i paint. until today.
and that i haven't painted in almost 3 months.
pretty sure every other word out of my mouth was fuck.
or mother fucken.
i have zero tolerance for stupid and/or rude people.
LOVING, like love love loving my new iPhone.
i officially have two boxes packed. go me.

adlkfjadkl

if i'm not abusing my body in some way, apparently i'm not happy.
the not sleeping thing has come back with a vengeance. in the last 5 days i've gotten 8 hours of sleep.
haven't painted in two and a half months. and it sucks.
the energy that you put out there comes back to you.
saw therapist dude today (it was E's appointment).
he left me with some parting words. some day i GET to tell the boys the story of how their father died. um...get to?? how about 'have' to.
will they understand why i didn't take them to see their daddy? will they understand it's because i thought it would scare them?
that i didn't want their last memory of their father to be of him attached to 50 machines with weird sounds and smells....
will they understand why i chose to have their daddy taken off the vent?
i sure fucken hope so.
i want the memory of james seizing to leave my head.
i want the memory of james struggling to breathe to go away.
i want the memory of me discussing organ donation out in the hall while james was on life support to leave my head.
i want the memory of james dying (turning blue and purple, gasping for breath) to leave my head.
i want to live my life. not just get through each day.

sunset in the harbor.
would it really be a bad thing to live here?

i don't think so.
some day it would be nice if what i had to say had nothing to do with james. not because i don't love him anymore. i need more than memories in my life. just sayin.