"You get what you pay for, but I just had no intention of living this way." -Counting Crows

Why We're Here...

My husband David and I delivered a stillborn Baby Boy that we loved, and wanted. Our first and only son, Logan, had Down Syndrome. Our daughter's smile is a little light in the darkness. She turned one year old three days after our sweet Logan tip-toed away on January 24, 2009. After 2 1/2 years we found out we were having another baby, whom we affectionatly called Rudy. Just shy of 6 weeks we found out Rudy was Ectopic. Rudy was surgically removed on May 26, 2011 delivering another blow to our already broken hearts.


Too much worrying...

I've been so full of anxiety this evening. I found out that my youngest brother (21yrs) got jumped last night and beaten up pretty bad by a "friend". My other brothers say that this "friend" is a psycho. Anyhow, I'm consumed with thinking about it. I guess the "friend" has a crush on my heterosexual brother, got jealous of something and totally flipped out. I keep thinking about all of the things that could have happened. Apparently this guy is a lot bigger than my brother. He did a number on my brothers face, broke his nose and hand (from blocking) with the elbow blows to his face. He spent the night in the hospital. I live 4 hours away and I feel so helpless over here. Sigh... I just had to talk about it. I find that since Logan died I'm just waiting for the other shoe to fall. I've become so much more paranoid than I used to be, and I didn't think that was possible. The other day my daughter fell and smacked her eye on a cabinet. She got a black eye from it. And I had to really push away some morbid thoughts. Then the another day my oldest brother couldn't be reached, for several days, so we all got a little worried and sent someone over to check on him (he lives 18 hours away) and all I kept obsessing about was him laying on the floor injured or dead. And now with my youngest brother, I'm obsessed with thinking this guy might kill him or something. One of those crimes of passion, if I can't have you then know one can, sort of things. I hate that I've become even more weird and obsessive about death. I hate sitting over here worried and obsessing about what might happen to him. I feel useless. Like I couldn't help my little boy, and therefore I can't help anyone else. Useless. Helpless. I hate feeling so vulnerable. And I hate obsessing and just waiting for someone else to die unexpectedly. It's an icky feeling.

3 comments:

Mrs. Spit said...

I think that this is pretty normal. I suddenly became much more worried about my mum and Mr. Spit and others after Gabe died. It calms with time, but you are always more aware of how quickly things can change.

Jennifer said...

OH MY GOODNESS! I can't even begin to imagine how hard this is for you and your family. I hope the "friend" ends up spending some time locked up!

Living With Loss said...

I can really relate to feeling like this - it's horrible.

Hope your brother is feeling better soon.

Take care, N

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