About two weeks ago my Grandma went into hospital with congestive heart failure and kidney failure. We were told she has 'months'. Monday night I learned that my Uncle (this Grandmas oldest son) had died that morning of a massive heart attack. He was getting ready for work.
My Uncle. He wasn't supposed to die. My Grandma is dying, and that sucks. He just all of a sudden died. I had just seen him Saturday. My brother, dad, dad's wife and my Uncle Steven went out for dinner that night. He was kind enough to pay (and I'd gotten a 'drink'-mmm, it was good too, lol- it had been that kind of day, afer all). He teasingly hit me over the head with a menu (I can't remember what I had said but I asked for it
). I didn't even hug him goodbye that night (I thought I would see him Sunday... he went home -up north- that morning... I didn't know he was leaving so early).
I was supposed to be able to see him again. That's just how life is. You see people, especially people who aren't sick and all (I'm sorry, this post is sounding so strange, it's just how my head is working atm).
Now he's dead.
It's so strange. Just writing it, thining it, saying it... it sounds so strange.
God, I want to cut so badly. Every fiber of my being wants it (I swear, I can physically
feel the need -and it is a need-). But it's been six months and I don't want to give that up
.
I keep seeing myself killing myself. Slitting my wrists. I won't do it. I can't do it to them. It's not that I really
want to... I don't think.
I don't really know what it is.
