A captain in my brother J's police department was killed in Iraq a week or so ago. He was 34, a father of three, and a decent human being. He came to my grandfather's visitation last year. It's the only time I've met him.
J is going through other shit, too. His TB test came back positive, and even though his lung x-rays are negative, he has to be on medication for the next 9 months.
The lawyer handling my mom's estate is less communicative than would be optimal. My brother K takes my "I don't know what the status of the estate is" as evidence that he needs to step in and piss off the lawyer's secretary. I know he didn't mean to, but that's what happened.
I hate this estate bullshit. I hate death. I hate when people I love are hurting. I hate when I inadvertently hurt people I love.
There are days when I wish I could just cease existing. I don't mean that I want to kill myself -- I couldn't do that to people I love. I mean that I wish I could erase my existence, at least for a while. Let there be an alternate timeline where I was never born for a while. At least until I get a fucking break from this constant hurting.
I'm happy, at least, that my therapist does email. And I see her tomorrow. In the meantime, I'm just going to lie here and watch Animaniacs and refuse to answer the phone. I wish I could go outside without having to talk to neighbors. Or anybody. I'm considering ordering a pizza for dinner tonight so I don't have to cook, but that would mean actually having to interact with a person.
Fucking shit.
| < I'm Never Doing This Again. | Attn: Sceptical Infidels > |

