Thirty two years old now. Wow.
I visited your “site” on my birthday to spend some time with you alone. I planted the orchids that were a gift from one of your Ellen Wilkinson School friends.
I wept at your grave and when it became too much I got up and I danced instead, just like I promised I would because I know you wouldnt want to watch me weep at your grave.
Friends and family came to celebrate and for moments I felt genuine happiness from all the love in the room.
At other times I felt empty and as sad and disappointing as it is I tried to fill the void with as much alcohol my mind and body could hold.
I let it fill me and temporarily wash away what I was feeling so I could dance the night away and be the person everybody came to see. Hoping you were dancing with me.
If it wasnt for my trigger happy self I wouldnt have remembered anything about my birthday celebrations that went by in a blur. But alas as usual in the morning I saw that my phone was filled of beautiful bittersweet memories of glimpses of my happiness; bittersweet of course because my happiness will never be complete without you.
I have started seeing horrible images again. Images of death, self harm, suicide. They are starting to fill up my mind and plague me. They are fighting their way in, trying to weigh me down.
I just want to be with you, to be with my sister.
The thought and actuality of being here another second, minute, hour, day, week, month, years feels too long to be without you.
I am fighting though, I am hanging on in there as I feel you will me to live, to stay here because unfortunately my life is not over yet.