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It’s interesting to me that William Wordsworth capitalized “I WANDER’D.” How ironic. How appropriate. We’re all “wandering” in this brand new world. Wandering. Our mother was always our rock, the one thing that was constant, the person who no matter what stupid crap we did we always knew she loved us. And that brings me to this sickening point…

The person who loved me the most, who loved us the most, is gone. We are all a little less loved than we were two weeks ago today.

This is very awkward for me to write stuff where other people can read it. I feel like there’s an automatic sensory that slides over my brain so everything is slightly off of what I really meant to say. So, I suppose that’s something I should be working on: saying what I really mean. I guess in a situation like this (how odd to refer to my mother’s death as a “situation”…) I think of things that are vastly inappropriate and I do things that are very self-destructive. I liked Sarah’s part about the Ativan and the wine. Can I say I’ve tried a few? …at a time. Oh, and also some prescription from my middle school depression. …Yes I kept it. And some hydrocodone (if that’s even how you spell it) from getting my nose surgery. Combined.

…Then one of my friends came and flushed it down the toilet. I guess I should thank that person for that for that, but then today I’ve had the worst headache of my life… To my darling sisters, I’ve discovered that Ativan (etc.) is addictive…even if only taken for a few days at a time.

Oh, and I’ve done the wine bit too, or at least my preferred alcoholic beverage…

…See I’m probably already going into detail that no one wants to read.

Well my friends, this is reality. This is where we are…and there’s no telling how to get out of it.

Welcome to the Suck.

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