disasterousfervor - Tumblr blog

[disasterousfervor]

[Severe depression and the lacking of sunlight is not being kind to me. I want to write, so I can understand what I’m feeling but it doesn’t help. My first dog, Angus, whom I’ve had since the age of two, is going to be put down in the next few days I’m sure. I have a Kik if anybody wants to talk there.

This is hiatus until I’m positive or not I’m losing my sanity or my dog. I’m going to see a psychologist behind my father’s back, so hopefully I can have help. I’ve been so low.]

[disasterousfervor]

((I am here friends~! I might not get to replies directly, but I'm here if anybody wants to talk. I've got Skype if anybody wants it. I hope New Years was lovely for you all. OH, and if I'm ever not here, I'm probably over here.

[disasterousfervor]

((Expect a few days of inactivity from me. Around New Years I kinda head off and do stuff. I have no idea what yet. I have a list of questions to write up and a few replies. Thanks for being part of my 2013, everybody. :3))

[disasterousfervor]

"Why was the cookie so upset?"

"I take it that means you didn’t like the joke?" 

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"I hate my life."

"Well, dam." 

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"A cup and a pool."

"I bet you can’t name two things that hold water." 

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((I made an American Horror Story: Murder House OC... Anybody want it? No...? Okay.))

[disasterousfervor]

{ Text } I've been by there. That place is fuckin' huge.

{ Text } I'm guessing private school teachers get a lot more in their paycheck. 

Messages

{Tm: Katie } What is there a problem  ? 

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"Every day is flatter Price time."

"Well isn’t that sweet?" He smiled again. "I feel like it’s flatter Price time right now…" 

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{ Text } Holy shit.

Messages

{ Tm: Katie } 10-8-80 malibu point 90265 ! The house on the bluff over looking the ocean ~  I will be waiting . 

[disasterousfervor]

Katie could remember a lullaby her mother used to sing to her. Not the words. But the hum. She held it in her mind, because it was the only thing keeping her from crying. She wanted her mother. She wanted to call her mother, but it was a risk. It would be such a beautiful thing. Hey, momma, guess what? I'm working on a farm with a nice boy. And a nice family. And I'm going to be happy here. She hardly noticed the way her ribs hurt in his arms. It was too nice to feel needed. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, face pressed against his chest.

Katie drank in his words. They were true. All of it. But it was hard to grasp them. She had not only faced rejection. Kind strangers, hitchhikers like herself. People that would sit and tell her stories in return for her own. The world was not only full of filth, but once a child is told that they are not loved, or they have only done wrong, a heart doesn't sit quite right. "I know... I know..." She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. "It's just going to take some time."

{ Katie & Drover }

♞ — — — Rejection. Drover knew nothing other than it. All his life he was tossed aside, disliked, judged — people didn’t take a shine to him. Even those whom he thought he could trust weren’t there for him. The only friend he had was Joey. He was the only loyal creature within the entirety of the world. Even his own mother had pushed him away — asking for him to leave her be, to let her be with his father. She was patient, but often fell irritated at his clinginess and his stupidity. You needed a lot of time with Drover, and that was something she didn’t have.

"Hey…” He whispered, though his voice wavered. Drover left the prepared cups be as he turned and wrapped his strong arms around Katie, practically lifting her from the ground as he crushed her in his loving hug. “No one is gonna do that to you. Sam loves you already. Joey takes a shine to you and heck, do I have to explain my feelings? His wife is all sweet too, she’ll adore having a female in the house.” He often felt sorry for the kind woman, for she was constantly surrounded by men. Sam had confided in him that none of her children were girls, either — no matter how hard they tried.

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((Just... read the tags and listen to this if you read it.

Katie had died at the hands of apathy. She wasn't sad or scared. She was ready. She was ready to leave Drover, Kaleb, and their farm behind. She had not been meant to live. Her parents should have had a baby boy. They should have had a hard worker. A college material child. She had denied them of that.

                                             Such a terrible crime.

Drover was eighteen when he'd first seen the pistol. He'd taken it from her hands while she cried. Why? Why did she have that to her head? She hadn't been able to tell him what she needed.

   {Let me go. This is mercy in the most beautiful form. I was not meant to live such a painful life. I don't think any humans are meant to feel so much pain. It just happens. We don't mean for it to. It's nobody's fault.}

He'd taken it and hidden it in an obvious place. She had to smile at such foolishness. She loved her dear Drover. But she'd see him again. In another life. She wasn't going to lose him forever. Her Drover darling. She would always be his Miss Katie. 

She embraced their son, seventeen in age. Much happier than Drover and Katie had been at that age. She apologized. For what, he had asked? 

   {Baby boy. My Kaleb. I am sorry to have to give you this news. I am sorry to have to pass on my mental issues of depression and confusion. I am sorry you will have to wait to see me. I love you. Mommy loves you.}

All answered on a piece of paper. All with a pen that hadn't any care for what words it was writing. She'd sat at the desk she had gotten for her birthday. A nine year old Kaleb had made it with Drover out of cherry wood. She'd fallen in love with it. A perfect place to open the windows and listen to the summer cicadas as she wrote to her family.

   {You made something out of me, Drover. I'm not sure what, but you shattered the glass barrier I had put up and reached inside. You caressed me and pulled me out and into your arms. You showed me the good. You fought off the bad. I fell in love with what you are. A silly, beautiful boy with a heart made of an angel's love and a horse with manners.}

The second floor bathroom with a lock. Her family would not see her in her freed state. They didn't need to see her again until they passed over. They would see her in life only. Not death. In the bathtub, so the mess would not be too great.

   {My beautiful boys.}

She'd call the ambulance before she did it. Kiss Drover like any normal day. Send him off to tend the farm. He'd come at the mournful cry of a truck. He didn't call an ambulance. He'd watch them search the house and would learn what the fear of a locked bathroom door was. 

   {Don't let anybody tell you that you can't do something. Don't let them hold you down and clip your wings. I let my father do that and I won't forgive myself. My wings are bloodied and broken. Time mends them. But the pain is not something I will ever let you two go through.}

A stretcher, a broken husband, and a confused child home from school.

   {When my dog, Rosie dies, bury her under the willow tree, where Joey is. Don't let them stick me in a grave, Drover. You fight tooth and claw. Cemeteries are wrong. They're meant for nothing but depression and death. That will not be where I lie. You put me out under that willow, too. Make sure of it. I will be free. I will be happy. I'll listen to the wind and the cicadas and birds like I am now. Not the mournful sounds of widows and broken families.}

The finalization of telling a child that their mother is dead is impossible. Nobody will ever understand it. But in that moment something is ripped away from the child. Katie was never quite sure. Maybe it was innocence, or maybe it was peace.

   {Don't mourn me. I'm happy. You'll see me again. It's a waste of time. You won't see me in flesh anymore, but you'll see me again happier than I have ever been. I am doing this because I know you can bear it. You can. Don't you give me that shit about being weak. You're strong. Both of you are strong.}

A body, a reminder of a human life, taken from the home to be rushed to a hospital that would report the death. She knew she'd be put where she needed to be. There were an army of people ready to defend her. A cluster of people that she'd met before Drover.

   {You made me beautiful.}

The note found, lying open on a cherry wood desk with no owner. 

   {It's so pretty here.}

Shaking fingers and blurred words.

   {You'll see it when it's your time. I have my wings back. I'm happy. I'm free. I'm whole.}

A sob caught in the throat of a newly broken widower.

   {Please don't cry. I can't hold you just yet.}

Slipping to the floor in hysterics.

   {Continue to be beautiful. Continue to smile.}

A child in need of consolation, sitting on the kitchen floor with a paramedic putting a blanket over his shoulders.

   {Love is not a strong enough word for what I feel for you.}

Broken, confused, yet peace of mind.

   {Thank you.}

[disasterousfervor]

♥

Send me a ♥ for my muse’s suicide note to yours.

You are the only person in my life that I can leave a letter for. Maybe it would be noble to send one to my mother in the mail, or a letter to my father. But that’s not how I want them to find out. Any words I would attempt to give them would be a lie. A canvas painted so they would think that I was in a state I was not.

I would lie in my death because that’s what I’ve always done for them. Lie. I’ve lied because it was the only thing that got me any positive attention. I hate to burden you. You hardly know me. I don’t want you to, I guess. It’ll be easier, I think, for you to do what I need you to do.

I know that you can get where you need to go. And I need you to go to my parents. I feel weird and mean putting this onto you. But I’ve talked to people. Happy people that have had you in their life. Most recently, a British man who I am pretty sure thinks Shakespeare is still alive.

I am not dead because of anything they did. I’ve always been sad. Even in my happiest moments. That’s just how it is. It’s nobody’s fault. I am depressed. It’s part of me. Simple as that. 

I do not think people should be this sad. The extent of sad should stop when a pet dies. Death needs to exist. We need to understand it. I am dead because I am doing a favor. I won’t pass depression onto any of my children. I’ll pass over and I’ll be happy. I’ll be happy and I’ll be able to wait for them there.

I’m not dying sad or angry. I’m dying loved. My momma loves me. Somewhere, my dad loves me. Friends have loved me and animals have loved me. That’s all I need. That’s all I need to pass on. There’s no sense in telling them how I did it. Please don’t. Because it doesn’t matter how I died. It matters that I died loved and happy. 

I’m sorry to give you this burden.

But I trust you. Learn from me. Learn from my words and pass them on. Everybody’s important. Everybody leaves a mark in this world, no matter how small. Love life. Smile. Dance. Spend time with people. Spend time with animals and with park benches. That boy in the coffee shop. That old man waiting for the bus. Help the pregnant lady put her groceries in her car. 

Leave a positive mark and forgive yourself.

[disasterousfervor]

Send me a ♥ for my muse's suicide note to yours.