Tag Archives: sadness

Floating around in nothingness.

I’m having such a hard time with life. My marriage was a disaster in the end. It truly was. But, the first few years before she became ill were fantastic. I’m not even sure what I am doing any more.

 

I’m wounded.

Probably more than I’ve ever been in my life. As of February 8th, two years ago, I clutched the phone with my head and shoulder as I pulled the lifeless body of my wife from our bed to the floor for resuscitation.. A day I see every day, several times a day, when both awake and asleep, relentlessly. Treatment for the subsequent PTSD and anxiety disorders are a joke. Even my doctors have called it, collectively. She was the only person I ever truly loved aside from my son. My wife was without oxygen for a damaging amount of time, something they told me while I stood in the ICU for a week could take her away from us mentally, physically, or both.

When she eventually woke, she was no longer my wife. The person I brought back from death wasn’t MY wife at all. And even tho she lived, I swear I died in that room that day. Our situation both before and after that day broke me. I cried everyday where she couldn’t see because I couldn’t help her, because no one could help us, Because she was so messed up, because I was so messed up. I broke under the pressure. She beat on me emotionally and physically because of her issues, yet I would do it again, truly I would. I know she knew what she was doing half the time. And the other half I think her soul was being called somewhere else and she had no idea what she was doing. She told me the day I moved out that we would be married again some day, that we needed to heal apart, that she loved me, that it was killing her to see me go. Months later I could see both deep love and deep hate in her eyes. We got worse apart, not better. I truly believed one day I’d get MY wife back, some day, maybe years but, maybe one day. I would have walked thru hell (and in some ways I did) to heal her, to have kept her, MY HER. After years of failing to help her I was resentful because I was drowning/hurting/helpless and couldn’t see the light. I made mistakes at the end of our relationship. Not the ones I was accused of, but mistakes nonetheless. I will carry them with me everyday. A few weeks ago, short of the two year mark, she died.

She was no longer my wife, or mine in any way.

My son’s other parent is gone, and when I got home I had to tell him while holding my shredded heart in my hands, while trying to hold his together. Through all the hurt, though all the pain, if given the choice I’d walk through hell,  blind if need be,  to find her and drag her out. I’d do it every day if I could have back the woman I fell in love with so many years ago.

Don’t waste time, it’s running out. 

Due to my wife’s illness, and perception of the situation, coupled with a former “Friend” of mine crossing lines and contacting my wife out of anger for me, saying who knows what – I wasn’t even made aware when she died. My son did not get to say good bye, they would not allow him at the service, or speak to us at all. My Wife and I weren’t on bad terms. But, someone trying to hurt me ended up hurting my son more. My son lost his mom, and his Grandmother in the same week, and was left on the sidelines all because of vengeance.

You never know who people are. Even if you have known them for years. I cannot even believe the things that have transpired.

Hold your loved ones. Tell your friends how much they mean to you. Identify and walk away from the ones that truly aren’t your friends. Tell the people in your life you love them once a day.

life with my wife toward the end was a horror show. I used this site as an outlet for my anger always thinking that in the end I would be able to write about the good things that would happen in the future. It was always my hope that she would get it together, and be around for my son. I know it was a long shot. I know it was stupid. but, I always had a spark of hope.

That hope died when she did.

My son is shattered.

But, everyday we talk about one good memory we shared with her. Some times the only way out, is though.

OXOXOXO

Catriona

 

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STOP HUMPING MY FRIGGEN LEG.

So, while in the Post Office, standing in line with about 15 people in front on me, I feel and hear a whisper in my ear “you need to move forward”.  Now this guy was so close to me, he was just about touching my neck. I moved forward, said something about him not having to be so close to me, and continued filling out my label. Not even 30 second later he was right up against me again. Soooo, again, I moved a bit forward trying not to crowd the woman in front of me. Annnnnd again he moved so close to me  that he could have been humping my leg if he twitched even in the slightest way. So, I am sure we all know what I did next.  I causes a ruckus. I’m damn good at causing a scene.

I yelled something about him “humping my Fucking leg” and “I’ve moved three times because of it, you do NOT need to be that close to me!”

Small USPS store means the whole office, patrons, and all the tellers heard.  The guy put both of his hands on the counter as if he was used to being made to account for his hands, and said not a word more.

I went to the next teller, and as always asked how his grandbabies were while everyone stared are the freak behind me. Snarl.

UGH.

 

Anyway. I have a photo dump for you all. These are from the last few days.

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One of the loves in my life.

Walking around the last few days to clear my head.

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Also, while in the store I found some Spotted Dick – I’m VERY familiar with that. But, what the hell is Treacle (in a can)? And, is it just me, or does it look wayyyyy worse next to the Spotted Dick?

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On my way home yesterday this was on the sidewalk of a construction site:

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Hope you are all well.

XOXOXO

Catriona

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Who do I have to sleep with…. (NSFW).. and um, Clown. I think.

to get some damn Horseradish Cheese?! Seriously.

I am serious, who?

I have no idea what I’m going to write about, and yet I can already tell I am going to need to add a NSFW disclaimer. Although.. I am SURE if you have been paying any amount of attention – that probably should go without saying. Haha. But, just in case we have any newbies ..let me just slap that up there..alright annnnnd we are good.

It seems I’ve been coming to write here less and less. I should knock that off.  So MANY things have happen in the last 6 months. Terribly bad things, and some incredibly enjoyable (and then some). So I think we should play “Catriona Catch up”, which for the record, is waaaaay different than “Catriona Ketchup”. That’s just a friendly FYI if you didn’t already know.

Alright, on with the Recap of how fucked Catriona’s life is! Hahahah.  It’s not going to be very detailed, for the most part. I just feel we should all be on the same page here. lol.

So if you have been following me, and there are a lot of you that do (I see you), you know the month of February was life altering annnnnnnd I lost my face. And my head, and some other things I really need. My son’s other parent went into the ICU at the same time as one of my closest friends. Both were close to death.  (Oh and my sister committed the ultimate betrayal.)

Then the months kind of blend together. Hell lived in my house, and my heart.

My friend went from losing a leg, to having two heart attacks, and several other potentially life ending situations, to a nursing home. It continues to be a “Fresh Hell” rollercoaster every day for him (and those who love him).

In April, April? Yeah April, no. Maybe May? I have no idea. Anyway, one of those months brought my mother the gift of Cancer, again.  I was still on my face from February.   

I dropped some weight. Lost my boobs. If anyone locates them, please return to the address labeled.

Also in June -I traveled to see my mother. She is dying. We’ve become closer than ever. She’s a mess, but we are dealing with it.

What else, what else…oh yeah…

OH, I threw my son a Minion party. It was a blast.

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I wrapped water bottles in duct tape and made, sigh, twinkie (gack) minions. hahha. It was held outdoors. You know you did something right when every child goes home covered in mud from head to toe. lmao. My son love it.

hmmm what else happened in the last few months…

I learned the truth about bananas:

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I think that’s all I got.

I think you are all caught up.. WAIT NO. THIS HAPPENED TO ME:

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I, um. I love clowns I do. BUT WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!

FUCK. Now I have to go put up a Clown warning. .

Alright, I think we are done with the recap. HAHAHAH!

Also, I’m just going to leave this here: 

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Hope you all are well, LMAO.

Catriona

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Broken head and the sunset

Life has been so horrifying these days. I’ve been officially diagnosed with PTSD. Not that it needed to be official, I’m displaying symptoms so apparent even the mail man is looking at me funny. Not the one that heard the STD convo, unfortunately. That was at Grams house.

I was starting to really think I was psychotic. Really. But both “specialists”  assure me this is “normal”, ha. I can’t deal with friends, I can’t look at photos, I can’t handle crowds even if there are vintage items involved. Simple inanimate objects trigger a fight or flight response that is just not rational. I just want to be alone. I feel better when I’m alone. I’m not dealing well with anything. I can’t do the things I love, I don’t even know if I love them any more. The spaces in my brain that used to be filled will endless knowledge are filled with the same file I just cannot delete.  It’s like my brain and senses are stuck on an endless loop of emotional terrorism. I live with earbuds flooding my brain with the loudest, most complicated music I can find,  in order  to keep the file from taking over my head completely.

It’s gotten so bad that I walk for hours on end, blasting music, like some how if I keep moving it will keep the darkness away.

I understood PTSD before, but I really didn’t. I hope none of you ever, ever do.

Under the BUnder a bridge.

on the bridgeStanding on the same bridge days later.

pt tripping 3I’ve been walking the canals a lot.

Catriona

 

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