X-Mas and Death

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Okay, so, I already said in the introduction what this book is, I may throw memes here, who knows, I do what I want...c(=

Seriously though, It's been five years since my best friend passed away, five long years and still every year at this time I get very nostalgic. She bought my son his first Christmas ornament not long before she died and it is a treasure I hang on my tree every year.

Unfortunately it is also a painful reminder that she isn't here for her favorite holiday of the year.

She was very sick, mentally, and physically in the end I suppose. She suffered from borderline personality disorder, bi-polar depression, anxiety, and what we always called peter-pan syndrome. She was never going to grow up, I often played the Wendy to her Pan, always there to take care of her. Unfortunately, I was also often her Hook, driving her to do more than she would have otherwise. She was sick, but she was beautiful.

She was addicted to drugs, y'know, since because self-medication, as well as on a plethora of psych drugs that led to her ultimate demise. I remember, when I found out she died I was at work, and her mom called me, and I was a cashier in a Gas station and I couldn't breathe. I was lucky I didn't get robbed, my state of mind was completely off the rails.

She wrote the most beautiful poetry, stuff I never could have even played at coming up with (I suck with le poetry) and was an ace with makeup. She hated her body, but embraced herself with a confidence that not many people have, she was glittery, and glowy, and fun, and funky, and she never cleaned out her fucking car.

Drove me nuts, seriously, I constantly had to clean it out. I once had to clean a dumpsite because she tossed one bag out the window on a gravel road, yeah, it had a check in it, with her name on it. -_- She was amazing like that, called me an accomplice (even though as a wiccan I have this unhealthy obsession with the state of the earth and what littering does to nature which has always been super important to me), so, I had to help clean it.

In the beginning of our friendship, we were in high school and I basically moved in with her and her parents at seventeen, after that she started sleeping a lot (thanks depression, you do great things to people). So I put together puzzles for a good six months of the beginning of our friendship, we literally did everything together after they straightened her medications out, and there was more than one occassion I stayed awake all night to make sure her drunk ass didn't asphyxiate in her sleep. I slept in my own bed in her room, shared everything (except clothes because of size differences) and took her facebook pictures for her, (y'know, right after myspace died :D ... God I'm old...) and then.

I bought my own land, she moved in with me, I got pregnant. We fought, a lot. Eventually she moved out and we lost touch, and then, out of the blue one day she calls me, probably seven months after we stopped talking? and she says she just got a new car, and she wants to go on one of our old exploring things, and of course I was like 'well, I'm at work, can we do it tomorrow?' and she was like 'Sure!' and I proceded to remind her she couldn't smoke around the baby and bla, bla, bla.

The next day I didn't hear from her.

Nothing new, she was a big fat flakey flake.

Loved her anyway, just saying.

So I went in to work a shift, glad to pick up some extra time and while I'm on the shift I get the call.

Literally the day we were supposed to hang out...she's gone.


I literally lost my shit.

Lost it.

I don't know if you've ever seen someone you were really close to dead, in a casket, it sucks.

Still, she was like a sister to me, I loved her so much and it killed me when she died.

So, I did what any normal person would do, I insisted I fix her makeup so she didn't look like a baby-doll, I helped pick her clothes, and I made sure she went down looking like the person she was, not the person they made her look like she may have been.

Her hair was a rainbow when she died (fun fact, she was eccentric as hell)

And now, I'm laying here, in my bed, and I can't stop thinking about another Christmas without her, and I decide to pour my heart out to wattpad, so, that's what I'm doing today...

How about you guys? Doing okay?

There will probably be quite a few posts about mental health, probably a little about sexual assault, some rants about why kids suck and you should never have them (They don't sleep, love him, just wish he would go to bed, no more one more cup of water damnit!) and things I think are funny or thought provoking.

Why, because I can!

And Wattpad gave me that ability, so blame them for putting the non-fiction section in. :)

Hope you all have a great night and sorry for the extra long whiney crap about my life....Yep..


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