I have good news to start this post off with, but the rest is going to be all Debbie Downer. Sorry.
Good news first...I have lost a total of 22 pounds! I had been hovering at the same number, that for some reason I didn't mind posting on IG but can't bring myself to post here, for what seems like months now. I felt like I was stuck in a revolving door. Playing the ol' "one step forward, two steps back", but instead it was "one pound lost, two pounds gained". It was frustrating and depressing and I finally just said to hell with the scale. Well for about a week. And then I couldn't take it anymore. And honestly, I expected to see a gain. I've been working out, but not as hardcore as I had been, and my eating while it hasn't been awful, hasn't been great either. So needless to say I was shocked and excited when I was down 4 pounds and finally in a new set of numbers. Definitely a much needed boost.
Now, onto the blah stuff. If you follow me on FB or IG, you already know that one of my cousins committed suicide yesterday. He was younger than me, and not someone that I saw often, but it doesn't make the blow any less painful. He was still a part of my life. A part of my family. And something was so terribly wrong that he felt his only option was to end his life.
I have never been able to understand the hows and whys of suicide. I just don't get it. I can't imagine getting to a point where I felt so helpless, so desperate, so alone, that I could actually kill myself. I know he did not have the best childhood. His father went to prison when he was a little boy. His mom, my aunt, did not take care of herself and basically ate herself into who knows how many illnesses, eventually sucumbing to them all. Leaving poor Jeffery an orphan. People in my family stepped up and took him in, and he eventually settled in with an older cousin of ours who raised him and got him graduated from HS. I don't know a lot of details about his life after graduation. I know he was in and out of college, in and out of jobs, in and out of jail, but that's about it. He was a sweet kid and I always hated hearing about his struggles.
However, I never imagined that his struggles would lead him to eventually walk outside of his home, and hang himself from a tree. Who does that? How can you do that? I get sick to my stomach thinking about what could have possibly been going through his mind as he took the steps he did to end his life. I don't know how long he was there. I don't know who found him. I don't know if he was on drugs or if he left a note. I don't know why he did it.
I do know that I am sad, and I am angry. I'm sad because he was my family, our family has been facing many trials and tribulations lately, and this just completely rocked us again. I'm sad that my 87 year old Meemaw has to attend a service for yet another member of her family that she has now outlived. I'm angry because it was selfish. I'm angry because last week innocent people, people who wanted to live, lost their lives in a bombing and in an explosion. Angry because there are people dying with cancer and other terrible diseases, that want to live, that are fighting to live. People who would love to have the air in his lungs and his beating heart. And he just ended it like it was nothing. It's not my place to judge him. It's not my job to figure all of this out. But I damn sure wish I could.
I love my family dearly, but sometimes they exhaust me. Before this even happened with him, the shit had hit the fan and I honestly was thinking that some of my aunts/uncles have just gone batshit crazy. And now this has happened and I have a feeling things are only going to get worse. I'm hoping and praying they don't, but that doesn't seem likely. Anyway, I just needed to vent today. I always have to be the strong one. I am always everyone else's rock. And right now I just don't want to be. So today, I'm going to be sad. And weak. And mopey. And tomorrow I'll try to pull it together and get my armor back on so I can do what needs to be done for my family.
Well, it's not really. But it will be.
However, I never imagined that his struggles would lead him to eventually walk outside of his home, and hang himself from a tree. Who does that? How can you do that? I get sick to my stomach thinking about what could have possibly been going through his mind as he took the steps he did to end his life. I don't know how long he was there. I don't know who found him. I don't know if he was on drugs or if he left a note. I don't know why he did it.
I do know that I am sad, and I am angry. I'm sad because he was my family, our family has been facing many trials and tribulations lately, and this just completely rocked us again. I'm sad that my 87 year old Meemaw has to attend a service for yet another member of her family that she has now outlived. I'm angry because it was selfish. I'm angry because last week innocent people, people who wanted to live, lost their lives in a bombing and in an explosion. Angry because there are people dying with cancer and other terrible diseases, that want to live, that are fighting to live. People who would love to have the air in his lungs and his beating heart. And he just ended it like it was nothing. It's not my place to judge him. It's not my job to figure all of this out. But I damn sure wish I could.
I love my family dearly, but sometimes they exhaust me. Before this even happened with him, the shit had hit the fan and I honestly was thinking that some of my aunts/uncles have just gone batshit crazy. And now this has happened and I have a feeling things are only going to get worse. I'm hoping and praying they don't, but that doesn't seem likely. Anyway, I just needed to vent today. I always have to be the strong one. I am always everyone else's rock. And right now I just don't want to be. So today, I'm going to be sad. And weak. And mopey. And tomorrow I'll try to pull it together and get my armor back on so I can do what needs to be done for my family.
Well, it's not really. But it will be.