I know what you’re thinking/But darling you’re not thinking straight

Today was another chemistry lab, fun times as always, and then I met with my Aunt Diana and spent time with her. It was the usual shopping and lunch, nothing new.

The issue I have though, is that I get depressed. When we are together, we end up talking about my Aunt Anna who died last June and that was hard on her…harder than it was on me. They were the only girls out of 7 (surviving) kids, and they were best friends. I never saw them alone – they were always, always together. So this has hit her hard, and she isn’t the same as before. It’s normal that this type of thing would change how a person is, of course, but she seems very unhappy.

The other issue is that we’ll talk about my Gramma Wight (my Dad’s mom…so her mom as well). I was not close to her. I loved her, but we were not close. When she died in 2008, I think I cried once or twice, and it was mainly out of guilt for not trying to be closer to her. Thinking about her makes me think about my Gma. And fuck, do I miss the hell out of my Gma. Sure, my Gma was 65, but she was a friend. Hell, she was cooler than some of my friends. Watching her suffer and die for 2 months last year was pure hell. The whole time I was praying that God would either heal her, or take her, because I couldn’t stand it anymore. I have never been more heartbroken in my life than when I was watching her die. I still feel like this was all unreal and that I’ll wake up from it all and that it will have just been an absolutely horrible dream.

This also leads to more guilt over my Dad. He died when I was 14. He was 41. I barely knew him, when you think about it. I knew my Gma’s cat Sophie for 19 years, 5 more than I knew my Dad. And trust me, my Dad dying was something horrible to go through. But, I also feel immune to it. I can talk about it like it was nothing because it has been 14 years. Next year he’ll have been dead longer than I knew him. I miss him, don’t misunderstand that, but I didn’t have that closeness to him that I had to my Gma. I had 28 years with her in my life. I know that what I’m doing in my life now would make my Gma proud. I know the tattoo that my mom bought me last year would be one she approved of. My dad would probably beat my ass for all the tattoos I have. I don’t know if he’d be proud of me right now. I’d like to think he would be, but how am I to know? At 14 he didn’t want me to even say hi to the boy that lived next door (who was younger than me and about 200 pounds heavier than me), and now I’m living with a guy (who just tried to grope me as I typed that out…I had to giggle at that). Would he approve of me not finishing school down at IU? Of not finishing my path to becoming a doctor? Would I have turned out differently?

Seeing my aunt makes me constantly question these things and dwell on them for days on end. And it fucking sucks. Who wants to think about the what ifs and the could have beens? I certainly don’t. Granted I’m not where I thought I’d be when I was younger and thinking about my future, but I’m working towards my goals. I’m in a good relationship, I’m doing fairly well in school, and I have a good group of friends. Thinking about what might have been doesn’t help keep the satisfaction level up.

Oh what, another emo post from Amber? Oops.

Here, so it isn’t so sad and unhappy, some pictures that amuse me.



Carry on friends, carry on.

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