I started this blog so that I could vent when I had no one specific to speak to. So here it is.
I'm constantly hearing "time heals all." Which right away I can say that's bullshit. There's not a day that goes by that the knife in my heart doesn't cut a little deeper. I can't go more than 3 days with out shedding a tear, and not even 2 weeks with out a full out ugly screaming cry. I feel as though the pain could kill me.
My brother passed away when I was 12, as many people know. He was ten years old when Leukemia took his life, taking my best friend from me. To this day I still hear his 10 year old voice in my head screaming "SAAAAAM!!!" when I do something silly, or even when I'm upset and missing him.
I held him as he took his final breaths, the hardest thing I have ever done. So hard that I blacked out. To this day I do not remember saying goodbye to my brother and that haunts me. Living a life with out closure is just so hard.
People argue about what kind of death is harder on people, arguing that an abrupt accident is worse than an illness, but I beg to differ. Death is a hard thing to deal with no matter the circumstance around it. It's also not a competition on what is better, or worse. Frankly I get extremely offended when people say I should have moved on, or that I need to get over it. They don't understand.
To say I live a life free of regrets would be a lie. I regret way too much because at 10 years old you don't understand the true meaning behind "Sam, your brother has been diagnosed with cancer and he's probably not going to live." What do you mean "not going to live?" He's fine and breathing, sure he's in the hospital hooked up to constant medication, sometimes screaming and crying in pain, but why would MY BROTHER die? That couldn't possibly happen.
So I never took advantage of the little things. I would tell him no to playing video games, I would fight with him, yell at him, and I'm sure I didn't tell him ow much I loved him enough. I would get annoyed with hospital visits, I didn't like going there. You can tell me all you want that it's all just how kids at that age are. Sure maybe it is, but I wish I would have been different. A little more aware of the life in front of me slowly slipping away.
This pain has been getting worse now that I am a week from graduating. Hell the pain has been excruciating all semester. I can't watch videos of sick children (which is hard to avoid due to my internship with Make-A-Wish) because I break down in an ugly sob immediately. I can't watch star wars, look at cheese puffs, drive by La Nova, none of that.
I know it seems over dramatic, but let me tell you this. At 11 years old I walked into the bathroom to see my brother ripping his hair out. He was crying in aggravation because he was going to lose his hair for a second time due to chemo so he started ripping it out by hand so that he didn't have to wake up with it on his pillow. My nine year old brother was ripping his own hair out by hand in our home bathroom. That memory haunts the hell out of me. Imagine walking in on your younger sibling doing that and try telling me then that I'm too emotional.
Try watching a video of your younger sibling in the hospital pushing around an IV pole saying "these are all my medicines," WITH A SMILE ON THEIR FACE. WHO DESERVES THAT?!
As Shawn's older sister I did all I could possibly do to save his life, but medical advancements were just not on his side. All the time I think "why him, why wasn't it me? It should have been me." I wonder what he would be like today. He would be 19 years old cheering for me at my graduation, instead he's just a 10 year old little boy stuck in my memory.
As much as I wish I could take his place so that he could be living a life, I can't. I try to live my whole life in honor of him, everyday. I know a part of him is living inside of me, taking care of me, guiding me. It's just not the same when you can't give your best friend a hug.
I miss my best friend.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Thursday, February 13, 2014
My valentine is...
With valentines day coming up I can't help but to think about how happy I am to not have a "boyfriend" to spend it with. By happy, I mean I truly happy. Why is this?
For far too long I let a boy run my life. He decided what was, or wasn't ok for me to do, what I was allowed to like, who my friends could be, when I could see my friends, basically how I spent my day, I felt drained! I didn't feel like I was appreciated, I didn't feel like I was a person, and I DEFINITELY did not feel like Samantha.
I felt like a slug. I would sit on the couch waiting for my boyfriend to want to see me, hoping I would get at least one or two social interactions with him in a week. I felt so cut off from life, from reality, it was insane. I constantly felt like I was going to just crawl through my skin and out of my finger tips. I felt like I wasn't worth anyone's time, and worst of all he made me feel as though I would never be worth anyone's time.
Last valentines day I spent on my couch crying my eyes out because I had found out he had been lying to me and we were broken up. He dropped off flowers on my front porch as a sorry attempt to "fix everything." I was insulted to say the least, that he couldn't even knock on the door to say hello, to tell me happy valentines day, to tell me to my face that he was sorry for the countless and pointless lies he had been telling me.
Of course with how forgiving I am, I gave in. We got back together shortly after and things stayed the same as they were.
Ignore Sam, yell at Sam, lie to Sam, hang out with Sam for a couple hours, fight with Sam, lie to Sam, ignore Sam, forget Sam for a few days, repeat.
By May of last year, I completely lost who I was. I didn't know myself anymore. I had "friends" but I would never see them, rarely speak to them. I decided I wanted to change myself. I decided it was time I was happy. I remember thinking right after finals "If he ticks me off and treats me like shit one more time, I'm out." I grew the balls and told him that. I told him I wasn't kidding.
Of course threats from me used to be nothing, he knew this.
A week had gone by in July where he didn't see me, lied to me, and treated me like dirt. I remember telling him he needed to give me a sincere apology or it was over. I waited in my drive way, drinking strawberitas to drown out my anxiety and my feelings of being worthless. I waited for five hours. Finally he showed up to apologize after I called him and said it was over. He gave me some BS excuse and what not so of course I accepted it and let shit go, once again.
This time I really felt like nothing. Here I am, drinking my feelings away, crying in my backyard all because someone doesn't appreciate me around.
For a few weeks I kept asking to do things and kept getting told no. Kept getting told if I wanted to see him on certain days then I had no choice but to go to car shows with him, that if I didn't like doing what he wanted to do then to just not see him. So I decided that after asking repeatedly if my own boyfriend would be my date to a wedding, and being told no, that I was just going to tell him he had no choice. I knew this would set him off, and I was right. So during the fight he said "lets go, we're going to a car show" so I stopped him. I said "so you can tell me what I am going to do with you, but when I do the same thing I get yelled at?" Well he basically said yeah, that's how it goes in a relationship.
Two weeks went by of me being stressed with my own home responsibilities, then witnessing a drunk driving accident, I just wanted a little help. I just wanted him to come by and watch my dog while I go to a training for work and make me some mac and cheese for when I come home then spend some relaxing time together. (I hadn't seen him in this whole two week span). He told me no, that he was having dinner till 6 so he couldn't make it by before 8 to help me out with dinner. That no he wasn't going to see me in the next few days.
I found out his grandfather passed away so I ordered flowers and had them sent to the funeral home and I showed up for the service to pay my respects, this was the first time I had seen him in two weeks. He barely spoke to me, barely said goodbye, and really just dismissed me the whole time. I gave it a few days had found out he had been hanging out with friends despite telling me he had no time to spare for me, not even for an hour. I broke down and told him that if I didn't see him for even an hour before I went to bed for the night, he wouldn't have a girlfriend in the morning.
He didn't have a girlfriend in the morning.
(Later I also found out that after his grandfather's service, he went out to some club that night telling me he didn't want to do anything and just wanted to go to bed.)
I stuck up for myself for once. I poured my heart and soul out for the guy everyday from the moment I woke up till the moment I went to bed. I thought about him constantly. Every time I went to the store I ended up buying him something because it reminded me of him. I would leave him presents on his truck to find before he went to work in the morning, such as his favorite candy, even a birthday cake on his birthdays. I would surprise him at his work to drop him off his favorite foods when I knew he forgot a lunch for the day. I even so much as tailored my school schedule around his schedule so that it would be easier to do things together. I would typically spend my whole paycheck on him an hour after I got it taking him to dinner, or even at the mall picking clothes for him. Every chance I got, I spoiled the boy. That's not even half.
All I asked for was some time, and respect. Each of which I couldn't receive.
A month after breaking up he broke down and said we needed to get together to talk. After resistance on my part, I finally gave in and said ok. He told me after we broke up he went and looked at apartments to rent for just me, he went and met with a breeder of my favorite dog because he wanted to buy one for just me after getting me an apartment. He had also told me he went out to look at engagement rings for me (before breaking up we were together for close to 3 years).
Most girls would be ecstatic and jump right back in. I looked at him in disgust. It took him losing me to realize what he had. It took him spending a month not speaking to me at all for him to realize he wanted me around. He was throwing promises at me saying he would do anything I said in order to get us back, he would see me all the time, drop the bullshit, never lie, blah blah blah. I've heard it all before. The more he kept saying the more insulted I became. A month away from him made me realize my worth. It made me realize I am much more than what a boy "makes" me. I am my own person, I have friends, I have a life, I have feelings, people care about me, people like me for who I am not the things I do for them.
I turned it all down. I turned down everything I had been hoping and dreaming of in order to pursue a life provided by me, for me.
I have of course talked to other guys since. I am not settling for less than what I deserve. I will not date someone again until I know that they appreciate me. I will not subject myself to a relationship of constant use and abuse.
I've been slowly turning over the rocks in my life, rediscovering who I am. I've been able to get back into four wheeling, fishing, running, working out, having friends, going out occasionally and dancing and having fun with my friends. I've also finally been able to meet new people & make friends at school. I competed in the Miss New York USA pageant, I began hunting and shot my first black bear, I've gone on a mini road trip, and I've also started applying for jobs.
Everyday when I wake up, until the time I fall asleep, I feel complete. I feel this way because I finally love myself and who I am. I feel like a person, and I feel appreciated by those around me.
Finally I would like to thank all of my friends who stuck with me through those painful three years. I love you all more than anything. You've seen me at my lowest. You've seen me scream until I'm blue in the face. You've seen me ugly sob, probably more than once. You've also seen me accomplish things I thought would rip me apart. You stuck through it, and those are real friends, those are the friends who appreciate me and love me because I am me.
This valentines day I will be spending the evening with my friends, doing fun things together because they are my valentines. They have always been there, and after seven years, I know they will always be there. I don't think there's a better way to spend a valentines day.
For far too long I let a boy run my life. He decided what was, or wasn't ok for me to do, what I was allowed to like, who my friends could be, when I could see my friends, basically how I spent my day, I felt drained! I didn't feel like I was appreciated, I didn't feel like I was a person, and I DEFINITELY did not feel like Samantha.
I felt like a slug. I would sit on the couch waiting for my boyfriend to want to see me, hoping I would get at least one or two social interactions with him in a week. I felt so cut off from life, from reality, it was insane. I constantly felt like I was going to just crawl through my skin and out of my finger tips. I felt like I wasn't worth anyone's time, and worst of all he made me feel as though I would never be worth anyone's time.
Last valentines day I spent on my couch crying my eyes out because I had found out he had been lying to me and we were broken up. He dropped off flowers on my front porch as a sorry attempt to "fix everything." I was insulted to say the least, that he couldn't even knock on the door to say hello, to tell me happy valentines day, to tell me to my face that he was sorry for the countless and pointless lies he had been telling me.
Of course with how forgiving I am, I gave in. We got back together shortly after and things stayed the same as they were.
Ignore Sam, yell at Sam, lie to Sam, hang out with Sam for a couple hours, fight with Sam, lie to Sam, ignore Sam, forget Sam for a few days, repeat.
By May of last year, I completely lost who I was. I didn't know myself anymore. I had "friends" but I would never see them, rarely speak to them. I decided I wanted to change myself. I decided it was time I was happy. I remember thinking right after finals "If he ticks me off and treats me like shit one more time, I'm out." I grew the balls and told him that. I told him I wasn't kidding.
Of course threats from me used to be nothing, he knew this.
A week had gone by in July where he didn't see me, lied to me, and treated me like dirt. I remember telling him he needed to give me a sincere apology or it was over. I waited in my drive way, drinking strawberitas to drown out my anxiety and my feelings of being worthless. I waited for five hours. Finally he showed up to apologize after I called him and said it was over. He gave me some BS excuse and what not so of course I accepted it and let shit go, once again.
This time I really felt like nothing. Here I am, drinking my feelings away, crying in my backyard all because someone doesn't appreciate me around.
For a few weeks I kept asking to do things and kept getting told no. Kept getting told if I wanted to see him on certain days then I had no choice but to go to car shows with him, that if I didn't like doing what he wanted to do then to just not see him. So I decided that after asking repeatedly if my own boyfriend would be my date to a wedding, and being told no, that I was just going to tell him he had no choice. I knew this would set him off, and I was right. So during the fight he said "lets go, we're going to a car show" so I stopped him. I said "so you can tell me what I am going to do with you, but when I do the same thing I get yelled at?" Well he basically said yeah, that's how it goes in a relationship.
Two weeks went by of me being stressed with my own home responsibilities, then witnessing a drunk driving accident, I just wanted a little help. I just wanted him to come by and watch my dog while I go to a training for work and make me some mac and cheese for when I come home then spend some relaxing time together. (I hadn't seen him in this whole two week span). He told me no, that he was having dinner till 6 so he couldn't make it by before 8 to help me out with dinner. That no he wasn't going to see me in the next few days.
I found out his grandfather passed away so I ordered flowers and had them sent to the funeral home and I showed up for the service to pay my respects, this was the first time I had seen him in two weeks. He barely spoke to me, barely said goodbye, and really just dismissed me the whole time. I gave it a few days had found out he had been hanging out with friends despite telling me he had no time to spare for me, not even for an hour. I broke down and told him that if I didn't see him for even an hour before I went to bed for the night, he wouldn't have a girlfriend in the morning.
He didn't have a girlfriend in the morning.
(Later I also found out that after his grandfather's service, he went out to some club that night telling me he didn't want to do anything and just wanted to go to bed.)
I stuck up for myself for once. I poured my heart and soul out for the guy everyday from the moment I woke up till the moment I went to bed. I thought about him constantly. Every time I went to the store I ended up buying him something because it reminded me of him. I would leave him presents on his truck to find before he went to work in the morning, such as his favorite candy, even a birthday cake on his birthdays. I would surprise him at his work to drop him off his favorite foods when I knew he forgot a lunch for the day. I even so much as tailored my school schedule around his schedule so that it would be easier to do things together. I would typically spend my whole paycheck on him an hour after I got it taking him to dinner, or even at the mall picking clothes for him. Every chance I got, I spoiled the boy. That's not even half.
All I asked for was some time, and respect. Each of which I couldn't receive.
A month after breaking up he broke down and said we needed to get together to talk. After resistance on my part, I finally gave in and said ok. He told me after we broke up he went and looked at apartments to rent for just me, he went and met with a breeder of my favorite dog because he wanted to buy one for just me after getting me an apartment. He had also told me he went out to look at engagement rings for me (before breaking up we were together for close to 3 years).
Most girls would be ecstatic and jump right back in. I looked at him in disgust. It took him losing me to realize what he had. It took him spending a month not speaking to me at all for him to realize he wanted me around. He was throwing promises at me saying he would do anything I said in order to get us back, he would see me all the time, drop the bullshit, never lie, blah blah blah. I've heard it all before. The more he kept saying the more insulted I became. A month away from him made me realize my worth. It made me realize I am much more than what a boy "makes" me. I am my own person, I have friends, I have a life, I have feelings, people care about me, people like me for who I am not the things I do for them.
I turned it all down. I turned down everything I had been hoping and dreaming of in order to pursue a life provided by me, for me.
I have of course talked to other guys since. I am not settling for less than what I deserve. I will not date someone again until I know that they appreciate me. I will not subject myself to a relationship of constant use and abuse.
I've been slowly turning over the rocks in my life, rediscovering who I am. I've been able to get back into four wheeling, fishing, running, working out, having friends, going out occasionally and dancing and having fun with my friends. I've also finally been able to meet new people & make friends at school. I competed in the Miss New York USA pageant, I began hunting and shot my first black bear, I've gone on a mini road trip, and I've also started applying for jobs.
Everyday when I wake up, until the time I fall asleep, I feel complete. I feel this way because I finally love myself and who I am. I feel like a person, and I feel appreciated by those around me.
Finally I would like to thank all of my friends who stuck with me through those painful three years. I love you all more than anything. You've seen me at my lowest. You've seen me scream until I'm blue in the face. You've seen me ugly sob, probably more than once. You've also seen me accomplish things I thought would rip me apart. You stuck through it, and those are real friends, those are the friends who appreciate me and love me because I am me.
This valentines day I will be spending the evening with my friends, doing fun things together because they are my valentines. They have always been there, and after seven years, I know they will always be there. I don't think there's a better way to spend a valentines day.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Today I was faced with a challenge. I had to introduce myself to a classroom of 25 students. I had to tell them my name, my year, my major, where I am from, and a unique thing about me. OK, to most that's not an issue. As soon as I heard the first word "introduce" I nearly fell out of my seat not able to breathe.
Welcome to my world of social anxiety.
I don't know any of these kids, I am only going to be in a class with them for three weeks and probably never see them again because UB is so large. So why am I freaking out? Yeah I'd like to know the same thing.
Anytime I have to talk to someone I do not know, introduce myself, or even breathe in front of a group of people I feel as though I am dying. It's an awful adrenaline rush. I can almost feel it running through my veins. I start shaking, I can barely breathe, I can't talk or think straight, and I am sure I look like I am going to cry. That is probably what death feels like.
I somehow mumbled through that I am Samantha, a senior studying sociology with a concentration in health & society, that I am from Niagara Falls, I will be going back to school for airplane mechanics, and that I am competitive, that's what makes me unique. I could barely get half of the words out and I could feel myself trembling and it's so embarrassing because I am sure everyone could see it. It took me 10 minutes after the fact to stop shaking and then my headache began. Once all of the adrenaline is out of my system, it never fails I get a headache.
Still to this moment I am trying to figure out what everyone thought of me. Did they think I am a complete idiot, the way I felt? Did they notice how nervous and anxious I was? Did they think I was cracked out? Or did anyone even think "Hey, maybe I want to get to know her"? Yeah probably not.
The thing is, that's only one instance. This happens to me all of the time. It is something I avoid at all costs.
So what does that mean?
That means I have very few friends. I don't really go outside of my circle. I don't introduce myself to new people. I'll see a guy I'm interested in and just walk away, completely regretting it and beating myself up over it for days. I won't even ask my closest friends to hang out for fear of rejection. It has consumed my everyday. Sometimes I have to talk myself into leaving the house.
I have always had anxiety to some extent, but it has gotten worse since December of my senior year of high school, which I am sure some of you have heard about but I am really not going to elaborate.
I am trying to better myself. I want to get rid of my anxiety. I want people to see me for who I really am and not think I'm that shy girl who doesn't know how to talk. I want the room to light up when I walk in it, I don't want to feel like dying.
This is why I am doing the pageant. I need to thrust myself out of my comfort zone. I will have to stand on stage in front of a crap ton of people in an evening gown and a bikini. I am probably going to black out, I just hope I don't fall flat on my face.
Welcome to my world of social anxiety.
I don't know any of these kids, I am only going to be in a class with them for three weeks and probably never see them again because UB is so large. So why am I freaking out? Yeah I'd like to know the same thing.
Anytime I have to talk to someone I do not know, introduce myself, or even breathe in front of a group of people I feel as though I am dying. It's an awful adrenaline rush. I can almost feel it running through my veins. I start shaking, I can barely breathe, I can't talk or think straight, and I am sure I look like I am going to cry. That is probably what death feels like.
I somehow mumbled through that I am Samantha, a senior studying sociology with a concentration in health & society, that I am from Niagara Falls, I will be going back to school for airplane mechanics, and that I am competitive, that's what makes me unique. I could barely get half of the words out and I could feel myself trembling and it's so embarrassing because I am sure everyone could see it. It took me 10 minutes after the fact to stop shaking and then my headache began. Once all of the adrenaline is out of my system, it never fails I get a headache.
Still to this moment I am trying to figure out what everyone thought of me. Did they think I am a complete idiot, the way I felt? Did they notice how nervous and anxious I was? Did they think I was cracked out? Or did anyone even think "Hey, maybe I want to get to know her"? Yeah probably not.
The thing is, that's only one instance. This happens to me all of the time. It is something I avoid at all costs.
So what does that mean?
That means I have very few friends. I don't really go outside of my circle. I don't introduce myself to new people. I'll see a guy I'm interested in and just walk away, completely regretting it and beating myself up over it for days. I won't even ask my closest friends to hang out for fear of rejection. It has consumed my everyday. Sometimes I have to talk myself into leaving the house.
I have always had anxiety to some extent, but it has gotten worse since December of my senior year of high school, which I am sure some of you have heard about but I am really not going to elaborate.
I am trying to better myself. I want to get rid of my anxiety. I want people to see me for who I really am and not think I'm that shy girl who doesn't know how to talk. I want the room to light up when I walk in it, I don't want to feel like dying.
This is why I am doing the pageant. I need to thrust myself out of my comfort zone. I will have to stand on stage in front of a crap ton of people in an evening gown and a bikini. I am probably going to black out, I just hope I don't fall flat on my face.
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
1,000 Paper Cranes.
Sadako Sasaki and her 1,000 paper cranes is my most vivid memory of school work from primary school. Sadako was diagnosed with Leukemia after atomic bomb was dropped on Japan during WWII. She is a real girl, and her story is real. It is believed that a person who creates 1,000 paper cranes would be cured by gods. I read this story in 4th grade, it was moving while I read it, but it was more moving after I had finished it.
It was a very cold January when I was in 4th grade. I remember having lots of snow, especially on this particular weekend I am going to recount for you.
It was a typical Sunday morning at my grandmother's house. My father was still living there trying to recoup financially from his divorce. We had just eaten breakfast which meant it was now time to watch Sunday morning cartoons! As to what me and Shawn were watching, I can't remember, that was information overload for my young memory that day. I was ten years old, and Shawn was only eight. We were so close in age that we were best friends, but we had our fair share of fights. There was one thing you would always see us doing together, and that would be watching our Sunday morning cartoons.
The phone rings and Dad answers. "You need us to come right now? ...... Uh ok..... Yeah we're on our way"
"Shawn, get ready, we have to go somewhere, Sam, you have to stay here."
He then went off to talk to my grandmother and the next thing I remember is him and Shawn leaving. I had no idea what was going on, where they were going, I just knew this wasn't good.
I sat there watching tv for a while and then I heard the phone ring again. My grandmother picked it up. I couldn't hear what was said I just seen her starting to cry. I asked her what happened, what was wrong, and she told me nothing. I went into the bathroom and started sobbing silently. I didn't want her to know that I knew something was terribly wrong. I was terrified of what was going on and I had no clue that my tears were justified.
My mother was coming to pick me up was what I was told later. This was terribly unusual. Normally my father would drop me and brother off at her house. I had no idea where they even were. When I got into the car, my mother told me that Shawn and Dad were at the hospital. She was going to take me to Applebee's so that we could talk about some stuff.
Before our waiter could even bring me my drink, my mother had told me Shawn was diagnosed with cancer. He had leukemia. The word "Leukemia" made me snap. All day I had been trying so hard to hold my fear in, but now it all came pouring out. I began to sob, and scream, I was so upset I couldn't breathe. Sadako died, so that means Shawn will. That was my first thought. My best friend was going to die and there was not a damn thing I could do to help him, or stop it. I wanted this to be a really bad dream. Shawn couldn't have cancer. I'm the older sibling, it has to be me. I need to be the one with cancer, I need to be the one dying.
Both of my parents told me Shawn wouldn't die, the doctors were going to help him. I was kind of relieved, but I remember sitting in my room for three nights in a row unable to sleep because I was crying. I eventually calmed down, and Shawn had a year and half left of his life. Of which, is too much to jam into one blog, and too much on my emotions to sit and write all at once.
If you're ever wondering what a truly guilty feeling is like, imagine this. Imagine doing a bone marrow transplant to save your brother's life, or not playing some PS2 games with him because you didn't like the games, or even as simple as not saying I love you enough, and then he dies at 10 years old. I felt responsible for his death for years because my bone marrow didn't save him, I still feel guilty even though I had no control and I know it's really not my fault. I still feel guilty to this day for not playing nascar PS2 games with him. Do you have any regrets? Because I have a laundry list.
I did a lot with my brother, and I have a lot of pictures and memories, that I am truly thankful for. That little boy changed my life, he has made me who I am, and continues to shape me today with his memory. Give you siblings a hug, tell them you love them, even if it is a text. One day, you'll be happy you did.
I finished reading 1,000 Paper Cranes two weeks before my brother's diagnosis. Although it made for a traumatic experience, I knew what to expect. I knew how horrible cancer was, and I was able to live knowing there was limited time. As for myself, I am cancer free but have had a scare. My brother and I have nearly identical DNA so it is a fear I live with. All I know is that if I am ever diagnosed, I have lived my life in such a way that I can be at peace.
It was a very cold January when I was in 4th grade. I remember having lots of snow, especially on this particular weekend I am going to recount for you.
It was a typical Sunday morning at my grandmother's house. My father was still living there trying to recoup financially from his divorce. We had just eaten breakfast which meant it was now time to watch Sunday morning cartoons! As to what me and Shawn were watching, I can't remember, that was information overload for my young memory that day. I was ten years old, and Shawn was only eight. We were so close in age that we were best friends, but we had our fair share of fights. There was one thing you would always see us doing together, and that would be watching our Sunday morning cartoons.
The phone rings and Dad answers. "You need us to come right now? ...... Uh ok..... Yeah we're on our way"
"Shawn, get ready, we have to go somewhere, Sam, you have to stay here."
He then went off to talk to my grandmother and the next thing I remember is him and Shawn leaving. I had no idea what was going on, where they were going, I just knew this wasn't good.
I sat there watching tv for a while and then I heard the phone ring again. My grandmother picked it up. I couldn't hear what was said I just seen her starting to cry. I asked her what happened, what was wrong, and she told me nothing. I went into the bathroom and started sobbing silently. I didn't want her to know that I knew something was terribly wrong. I was terrified of what was going on and I had no clue that my tears were justified.
My mother was coming to pick me up was what I was told later. This was terribly unusual. Normally my father would drop me and brother off at her house. I had no idea where they even were. When I got into the car, my mother told me that Shawn and Dad were at the hospital. She was going to take me to Applebee's so that we could talk about some stuff.
Before our waiter could even bring me my drink, my mother had told me Shawn was diagnosed with cancer. He had leukemia. The word "Leukemia" made me snap. All day I had been trying so hard to hold my fear in, but now it all came pouring out. I began to sob, and scream, I was so upset I couldn't breathe. Sadako died, so that means Shawn will. That was my first thought. My best friend was going to die and there was not a damn thing I could do to help him, or stop it. I wanted this to be a really bad dream. Shawn couldn't have cancer. I'm the older sibling, it has to be me. I need to be the one with cancer, I need to be the one dying.
Both of my parents told me Shawn wouldn't die, the doctors were going to help him. I was kind of relieved, but I remember sitting in my room for three nights in a row unable to sleep because I was crying. I eventually calmed down, and Shawn had a year and half left of his life. Of which, is too much to jam into one blog, and too much on my emotions to sit and write all at once.
If you're ever wondering what a truly guilty feeling is like, imagine this. Imagine doing a bone marrow transplant to save your brother's life, or not playing some PS2 games with him because you didn't like the games, or even as simple as not saying I love you enough, and then he dies at 10 years old. I felt responsible for his death for years because my bone marrow didn't save him, I still feel guilty even though I had no control and I know it's really not my fault. I still feel guilty to this day for not playing nascar PS2 games with him. Do you have any regrets? Because I have a laundry list.
I did a lot with my brother, and I have a lot of pictures and memories, that I am truly thankful for. That little boy changed my life, he has made me who I am, and continues to shape me today with his memory. Give you siblings a hug, tell them you love them, even if it is a text. One day, you'll be happy you did.
I finished reading 1,000 Paper Cranes two weeks before my brother's diagnosis. Although it made for a traumatic experience, I knew what to expect. I knew how horrible cancer was, and I was able to live knowing there was limited time. As for myself, I am cancer free but have had a scare. My brother and I have nearly identical DNA so it is a fear I live with. All I know is that if I am ever diagnosed, I have lived my life in such a way that I can be at peace.
Misconceptions.
Today I just wanted to clear a few things up because for years I've heard I was intimidating, or scary, or seemed stuck up and unapproachable. All of which I thought were jokes until recently I've realized, people are serious.
I always knew that some girl lacrosse players in the area were afraid of me, which I completely understand why. I've taken stick checks to the face, shots to the crotch (yes it was bruised down to my knee), I've been trampled, thrown, you name it, and I would pick myself up and finish the game. The only time I took a seat was when i tore my meniscus & ACL. There were also the stories of me knocking a girl out while on JV, me checking some poor girl in the back of the net, knocking girls on their ass when they would try to cut towards the net, purposely putting myself in harms way to stop a shot, and just my fearlessness with my stick. I loved defense, so I get that.
What I've never understood were the people who would tell me they thought all of those things about me who never once even looked at me on the field. The people I sat next to in classes, or at lunch, or would even see me walking through the hall. I was a quiet girl, I mostly kept to myself because I was terrified of EVERYONE. Well frankly, I still am. I really didn't get a warm welcome to Wheatfield.
I met the lacrosse team before even transferring to NW so naturally they were my first, and really only friends until my senior year of high school. I'm afraid of any sort of rejection. Whether it be just trying to make a friend, or trying to get a date. I am so completely self conscious that is has hindered me more than you all know. It's kind of funny though because when I do get the courage to talk to someone, or to hang out with anyone I usually (more often than not) get turned down, ignored, ditched, or talked bad about behind my back.
I don't avoid speaking to people because I'm stuck up. I avoid it because I'm shy, have social anxiety, and I am completely awkward. I don't know how to say "hi" to someone first, nor can I even text someone first. I'm afraid to ask anyone to hang out, what would I even do hanging out with someone? It's not because I think I'm better than anyone, it's actually the opposite. Sometimes I feel every one's too good for me and why would someone like you want to be friends with me? That's what I don't understand.
I am also not sure why anyone would be intimidated by me or scared of me. Maybe it's because I know what I want and I go for it. Or maybe it's because of my maturity level due to me having to grow up and be an adult at 10-11 years old. I also think it might be because I don't take any one's bullshit (unless of course we are dating, apparently I will deal with infinite amounts of bullshit).
I just want everyone to know, you can approach me. Even if we aren't friends, have barely ever spoken, if you need something I WILL help you. I love hanging out with people and having a good time, I also love having a real conversation, not just some bullshit. I'm a real person. I'm not stuck up, I'm not a bitch, I don't play games, I don't lie, and I am here when you need something. So I apologize for what ever has made people afraid of me, or what I have done to create misconceptions about me, but I promise if you were to give a chance you would see that you were probably wrong.
I always knew that some girl lacrosse players in the area were afraid of me, which I completely understand why. I've taken stick checks to the face, shots to the crotch (yes it was bruised down to my knee), I've been trampled, thrown, you name it, and I would pick myself up and finish the game. The only time I took a seat was when i tore my meniscus & ACL. There were also the stories of me knocking a girl out while on JV, me checking some poor girl in the back of the net, knocking girls on their ass when they would try to cut towards the net, purposely putting myself in harms way to stop a shot, and just my fearlessness with my stick. I loved defense, so I get that.
What I've never understood were the people who would tell me they thought all of those things about me who never once even looked at me on the field. The people I sat next to in classes, or at lunch, or would even see me walking through the hall. I was a quiet girl, I mostly kept to myself because I was terrified of EVERYONE. Well frankly, I still am. I really didn't get a warm welcome to Wheatfield.
I met the lacrosse team before even transferring to NW so naturally they were my first, and really only friends until my senior year of high school. I'm afraid of any sort of rejection. Whether it be just trying to make a friend, or trying to get a date. I am so completely self conscious that is has hindered me more than you all know. It's kind of funny though because when I do get the courage to talk to someone, or to hang out with anyone I usually (more often than not) get turned down, ignored, ditched, or talked bad about behind my back.
I don't avoid speaking to people because I'm stuck up. I avoid it because I'm shy, have social anxiety, and I am completely awkward. I don't know how to say "hi" to someone first, nor can I even text someone first. I'm afraid to ask anyone to hang out, what would I even do hanging out with someone? It's not because I think I'm better than anyone, it's actually the opposite. Sometimes I feel every one's too good for me and why would someone like you want to be friends with me? That's what I don't understand.
I am also not sure why anyone would be intimidated by me or scared of me. Maybe it's because I know what I want and I go for it. Or maybe it's because of my maturity level due to me having to grow up and be an adult at 10-11 years old. I also think it might be because I don't take any one's bullshit (unless of course we are dating, apparently I will deal with infinite amounts of bullshit).
I just want everyone to know, you can approach me. Even if we aren't friends, have barely ever spoken, if you need something I WILL help you. I love hanging out with people and having a good time, I also love having a real conversation, not just some bullshit. I'm a real person. I'm not stuck up, I'm not a bitch, I don't play games, I don't lie, and I am here when you need something. So I apologize for what ever has made people afraid of me, or what I have done to create misconceptions about me, but I promise if you were to give a chance you would see that you were probably wrong.
Friday, December 13, 2013
354 and counting.
Event Number One:
It's Thanksgiving morning when all of a sudden I hear a loud crash in my bed room. As I open my eyes I notice the door to my room is half off the hinges and there stands my mother.
It's Thanksgiving morning when all of a sudden I hear a loud crash in my bed room. As I open my eyes I notice the door to my room is half off the hinges and there stands my mother.
"Get your fucking ass out of bed !"
Here is goes again.......
She decided to break down my unlocked door in order to wake me up and yell at me for going out with my friends the night before. Despite her saying it was fine at the time.
"You fucking lied to me on what you were doing and who you were with! What the fuck is wrong with you, you know you weren't supposed to be out at a club!"
Here it goes. Being yelled at on Thanksgiving morning before I even know what's going on. My mother had told me it was fine to meet some of my friends out that night. She knew where I was going and who I would be seeing, also that I wouldn't get home until 3:00am, yet here she is yelling at my for doing what she said was fine at the time.
Event Number Two:
It's the day after Christmas and as I'm sleeping my mother opens my bedroom door, with out breaking it this time, and wakes me up.
"I'm going for a drive. If I don't come back don't worry about me. I'm probably just wrapped around a telephone poll some where."
I don't even respond. This shit has become beyond ridiculous. I just get out of bed, wait till she's gone and I get dressed and drive to my father's house. As I'm on my way my phone begins to ring.
"Where the fuck did you go?"...."Why the hell are you going to your fathers house?"...."Oh to complain about me I bet!"...."Who knows if I'll be here when you get home."
Typical.
I get to my father's house and I tell him all about it. He suggested I pack my stuff and just move into his house. The thoughts tempting, but I couldn't stand to break my mother's heart like that even though it's complete hell living in her house. I'm the only child left, I can't just leave.
My father made me feel better so I returned home. I didn't expect to walk into what I did.
I open up the door and she begins yelling at me for this and that and everything else. Complaining because I talked to my dad and yelling at me because I left with out her permission. All of a sudden she lifts our glass top coffee table, and slams it onto the ground. Glass shattered every where. A this point I walk to my bedroom door way, trying to avoid the destruction. She grabs the seven foot lamp and swings it across the room, That shatters as well. She grabs a picture off the wall, and threw it at the opposing wall. At this point there is glass every where. I text my grandmother to tell her she needs to come over, something was wrong with my mom. Then the phone rings.
"You called your fucking grandmother! Thanks Samantha, that's all I fucking need right now! I'm LEAVING!"
My mother then stormed off again. My grandmother came over to help me clean up all of the glass and restore the house as much as we could. My mother came home in the process and yelled at both of us for cleaning. At this point my grandmother suggested I spend the rest of the day and night at my fathers house, so I packed an over night bag and left.
Event Number Three:
I've got the house to myself for the night. My mother is working an over night and my boyfriend had a 13 hour shift so I decide to spend my night alone watching tv, after all I have school in the morning. I read a silly comment left on a facebook post so my sarcastic self replies back with "Lay off the drugs, those white things you've been popping definitely aren't tictacs !!!"
My phone rings and its not even three minutes later.
"You're an internet bully! Delete that comment and apologize to that boy! So much is wrong with you and I did not raise you that way!"
It's my mother, stalking my facebook while at work, what else is new. So I do my typical and ignore her rant and go to bed.
It's now 6am and my phone alarm goes off for school. I look and what a surprise, seven missed phone calls from my mother and three voice messages. She knows I was sleeping, I had school in the morning.
After my morning classes I go to work. As soon as I arrive three people tell me my father is looking for me, I thought it was about giving me a child support check. I enter the maintenance booth and I see the pissed off look on his face.
"OUTSIDE NOW."
Welp. That's not good.
"Your mother called me at 5am to bitch about you. She said I need to come over today after work to discuss what is to be done about you."
At this point I start crying. What did I even do??
"I read your comment to that kid Sam, and I laughed so hard. It was funny. I divorced your mother twelve years ago, she is not the boss of me. I will not go sit in HER kitchen and listen to HER bash you. You are to go home after work, pack your things and leave. You NEED to move in with me. You can't live with this any longer."
I had no choice to do what he said. As I'm driving home I'm building my confidence, I'm telling myself I can do this. It will be hard, but I can leave.
"Sit down at the table, Samantha. Your fathers coming over so we can have a discussion with you."...."What do you mean by 'no he's not?'"...."Well then you're out. I'm kicking you out. You can't live here ANYMORE!"
Looks like I didn't need to actually say anything. She is kicking me out. At this point she grabs two black garbage bags, storms to my room and stuffs my necessary stuff in them. Throws them outside, takes my car keys from me (although I purchased the car with my own money) and told me to get in her truck she was dropping me off at my father's house.
She pulled in his drive way, threw my garbage bags of items onto his lawn, and sped away.
This was two years ago. This Christmas Eve will mark one year since she has even spoken to me. No call or text on my birthday even. She has started rumors I'm a drug addict. I get drug tested for my job, and if I did drugs I wouldn't be graduating a year early with a bachelors. I hate drugs. I've seen what they do to people. She has also called me a whore for dating someone at the time, she said I should leave him and try dating a few guys; apparently this would make me no longer a whore. Makes sense.
This is what alcoholism does to people. It's not easy to watch, or easy to deal with.
"You fucking lied to me on what you were doing and who you were with! What the fuck is wrong with you, you know you weren't supposed to be out at a club!"
Here it goes. Being yelled at on Thanksgiving morning before I even know what's going on. My mother had told me it was fine to meet some of my friends out that night. She knew where I was going and who I would be seeing, also that I wouldn't get home until 3:00am, yet here she is yelling at my for doing what she said was fine at the time.
Event Number Two:
It's the day after Christmas and as I'm sleeping my mother opens my bedroom door, with out breaking it this time, and wakes me up.
"I'm going for a drive. If I don't come back don't worry about me. I'm probably just wrapped around a telephone poll some where."
I don't even respond. This shit has become beyond ridiculous. I just get out of bed, wait till she's gone and I get dressed and drive to my father's house. As I'm on my way my phone begins to ring.
"Where the fuck did you go?"...."Why the hell are you going to your fathers house?"...."Oh to complain about me I bet!"...."Who knows if I'll be here when you get home."
Typical.
I get to my father's house and I tell him all about it. He suggested I pack my stuff and just move into his house. The thoughts tempting, but I couldn't stand to break my mother's heart like that even though it's complete hell living in her house. I'm the only child left, I can't just leave.
My father made me feel better so I returned home. I didn't expect to walk into what I did.
I open up the door and she begins yelling at me for this and that and everything else. Complaining because I talked to my dad and yelling at me because I left with out her permission. All of a sudden she lifts our glass top coffee table, and slams it onto the ground. Glass shattered every where. A this point I walk to my bedroom door way, trying to avoid the destruction. She grabs the seven foot lamp and swings it across the room, That shatters as well. She grabs a picture off the wall, and threw it at the opposing wall. At this point there is glass every where. I text my grandmother to tell her she needs to come over, something was wrong with my mom. Then the phone rings.
"You called your fucking grandmother! Thanks Samantha, that's all I fucking need right now! I'm LEAVING!"
My mother then stormed off again. My grandmother came over to help me clean up all of the glass and restore the house as much as we could. My mother came home in the process and yelled at both of us for cleaning. At this point my grandmother suggested I spend the rest of the day and night at my fathers house, so I packed an over night bag and left.
Event Number Three:
I've got the house to myself for the night. My mother is working an over night and my boyfriend had a 13 hour shift so I decide to spend my night alone watching tv, after all I have school in the morning. I read a silly comment left on a facebook post so my sarcastic self replies back with "Lay off the drugs, those white things you've been popping definitely aren't tictacs !!!"
My phone rings and its not even three minutes later.
"You're an internet bully! Delete that comment and apologize to that boy! So much is wrong with you and I did not raise you that way!"
It's my mother, stalking my facebook while at work, what else is new. So I do my typical and ignore her rant and go to bed.
It's now 6am and my phone alarm goes off for school. I look and what a surprise, seven missed phone calls from my mother and three voice messages. She knows I was sleeping, I had school in the morning.
After my morning classes I go to work. As soon as I arrive three people tell me my father is looking for me, I thought it was about giving me a child support check. I enter the maintenance booth and I see the pissed off look on his face.
"OUTSIDE NOW."
Welp. That's not good.
"Your mother called me at 5am to bitch about you. She said I need to come over today after work to discuss what is to be done about you."
At this point I start crying. What did I even do??
"I read your comment to that kid Sam, and I laughed so hard. It was funny. I divorced your mother twelve years ago, she is not the boss of me. I will not go sit in HER kitchen and listen to HER bash you. You are to go home after work, pack your things and leave. You NEED to move in with me. You can't live with this any longer."
I had no choice to do what he said. As I'm driving home I'm building my confidence, I'm telling myself I can do this. It will be hard, but I can leave.
"Sit down at the table, Samantha. Your fathers coming over so we can have a discussion with you."...."What do you mean by 'no he's not?'"...."Well then you're out. I'm kicking you out. You can't live here ANYMORE!"
Looks like I didn't need to actually say anything. She is kicking me out. At this point she grabs two black garbage bags, storms to my room and stuffs my necessary stuff in them. Throws them outside, takes my car keys from me (although I purchased the car with my own money) and told me to get in her truck she was dropping me off at my father's house.
She pulled in his drive way, threw my garbage bags of items onto his lawn, and sped away.
This was two years ago. This Christmas Eve will mark one year since she has even spoken to me. No call or text on my birthday even. She has started rumors I'm a drug addict. I get drug tested for my job, and if I did drugs I wouldn't be graduating a year early with a bachelors. I hate drugs. I've seen what they do to people. She has also called me a whore for dating someone at the time, she said I should leave him and try dating a few guys; apparently this would make me no longer a whore. Makes sense.
This is what alcoholism does to people. It's not easy to watch, or easy to deal with.
Thursday, December 12, 2013
Words Last Forever.
We have all heard the famous "don't say anything on the internet you would wish you hadn't of said. It's there forever you know." Well, the internet isn't the only thing that will let your words haunt you. Your conscience will.
I'm sure those of you reading this who have a sibling can recall a time where you've said "I wish you were never born!" Or you've at least thought it. We all have, and children definitely don't have much of a filter.
This is one memory I struggle with.
I remember sitting in my brothers room with him one day, I was maybe seven at the time making him five. We were doing something, as to what I can't remember, and he aggravated me so I blurted out "I WISH YOU WERE NEVER BORN!"
Well, this was short lived because he immediately started screaming and crying so I put my hand over his mouth (so my mother didn't hear) and I apologized and told him I didn't mean it. I told him I loved him and I loved having a little brother.
So what's the big deal?
My brother died five years later from acute lymphoblastic leukemia paired with the Philadelphia chromosome. It's been nine years since I've spent a Christmas with him, I haven't been able to buy him Christmas gifts, and I haven't been able to hear "I love you Sam."
When I go to visit my brother I have to go to the cemetery. When I think of my brother I see an image that hasn't changed at all in eight and a half years. I can barely remember what his voice sounded like, or what a hug from him felt like.
What I do remember though are the blood chilling screams he had from pain. I remember him being too sick to move off of the couch. I remember his seizures the days prior to his passing. I remember being woken up to say my last goodbyes to Shawn.
I do not remember his last breath. I do not remember holding him as he took his last breath.
I no longer have a brother. It's been just me since. Sometimes I dream he's alive and I'll wake up and cry for days not leaving my bed. It doesn't get easier, you just learn to hide it better.
My point is, no matter how stressed, angry, aggravated, or sad you are, just think "Will these words haunt me the rest of my life?"
Every single day those words I said to my brother run through my head. I remember it like it just happened. I wish I never said those words. If there's one regret I have in life, it's that.
This holiday season, tell your siblings you love them. It could be the last Christmas you spend with them.
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