Quote:
Originally Posted by Alffe
It's still called lurking my friend but I've sensed your presence. In the twenty plus years since our Michael killed himself, suicide remains a conversation stopper. I find myself a lurker more often, because nothing seems to work as far as educating people on the dangers to family and friends left behind.
We are so looking forward to the visit from our grandson and his family today. There will be lots of hugs and giggles with the little ones but there will be no mention of our son. ~heavy sigh~
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Survivors we are
Yet I walk in circles
Wondering why am in this
terrible frame of mind
You know
The unspoken word
Pain=mental illness to present
"Itself"
As I run this circle every day for the past three years
How great could his "pain" have been
Because I just want to rip my shin off
and God knows what I would go for first
This brain
This being
Is having them thoughts
Never to act on them
My mind
My mind has its own on and off button
I do not control it
You would think I could
But pain is driving some charges to that button
I cannot help but tell it like it is for me
DMACK
you represent persons
such as myself
A recovering alcoholic
Of twenty plus years
One day at a time
Bam
I'm inflicted with turd
I have no control over
My Body
I a physician induced addict
Help put me in this dark place
Younger having a drink
I wold tell myself so I could be
calm for my children
Having pills that could take me out in a beat of this heart
Do I then remember
He took a gun to himself
I don't care how fudged up he was
How great was his pain
For me to get to think that for my life
Then the anger of the pain I still suffer
As running this circle is NOT where I want to be
Yet it's there every single morning
And the day moves on and slowly
I realize the pain I would cause
He had a choice
As I fight "it" everyday
And at the end of the day
I made a promise
I made a promise
And then my mind takes me to my children
All giving death a shot
Saraeve physician induced she is my epileptic child
My boy bi-polar recovering heroin addict
My third child angel dust addict entering re-hab
stopped counting
My seventeen year old recovering addict
My sisters both recovering
See a pattern
I am left talking to his spirit
As I call upon him to watch over the family
It's the least he can do
We did not ask for life
The parents I landed
I understand
Does it make it okay
Hell no
I know the truth
I cannot leave them thinking zippo
Elephants are a symbol in my home
Gentle giants
Thank you for allowing my ramble
Love
Me