no matter how much we hope...some things are just out of our control. perhaps i realized too little, too late, that my fate has more to do with attitude than physicality (passive aggressive ownership). i want to say..."if i live i'll do things differently" (and i will)...but that just seems like something people haphazardly bargain to god with when there is no where else to turn.
if god truly does know my heart...i'll keep what i'm feeling...there.
i realize that death no longer scares me. but leaving toots is what presently has me up and adding words to a blog that i posted two nights ago. i'm so scared. and if i cry, my brain feels like it's swelling, so i can't. and if i vent to anyone, i'm hit with positive affirmations void of my reality. i'm nauseous and dizzy. i'm angry. there is a lump in my throat. i have no words at all to accurately portray what i'm feeling. if i die, perhaps i'll regret all the things i could have said, or the "final" words i could have written, but does it matter? will a letter to my child ease her future pain? wednesday, i go for my angio. if it's early, i can be spared (hopefully). almost all aneurysm survivors will have another form. almost all of them die. and even if they don't form another, their days are numbered, no matter how much they change their diets and eliminate vices.
my father died, less than a year into my survival record. and then i backslid. grief overwhelmed, common sense took an extended vacation.
i'm writing out pass-codes. want family and close friends to have access to "online" me and pictures of toots that no one has seen. and then i giggle a little. social media has become so ingrained that i'm actually writing out pass-codes. but i want this blog to remain. or, at the very least, for every post to be printed out for her, pictures and all. if i am not there to cheer her on through life, god, i just want her to know how amazing she is. and not because i am her mother, and she is my daughter, but because she has a rare beauty in her that will heal everyone around her if she so wishes. my amazing aquarian. if i'm not here, dear you...remind her of me...often.
(tears are forming. my brain...hurts. i'm happy my mother doesn't read my blog. i need to stop now)
truth is...it's a miracle i survived at all. even more so to still be here two years later. i had hopes of reaching that glorified ten year mark that so many brain aneurysm survivors strive for (it's a secret world, that no one knows exists, until they have to)...and i am not giving up. but...reality...is...reality.
all i can do is "hope"...right?
p.s: i don't have the energy to explain all that i've went through with this, but here are links to two sites that accurately convey those tedious details. get yourself checked. stop smoking. stop drinking. breathe. do yoga. or anything healthy that calms you. pick lavender. love OFTEN. and effortlessly (only an arrogant and lonely heart feels someone needs to "work" to obtain their love).
my love is given...free of charge. take as much as you want, just leave a little for me to live off of. deal?
and this one is just a straight forward faq sheet.
(love. light. later.)