February 23, 1994
"What good is anything if at the end you come to your death with no one to hold your hand."
Joyce Rebeta-Burditt - The Cracker Factory
For a long time now, my mind has felt like a Maytag washer stuck on the spin cycle, around and around it goes. At times beyond my control, as if a mind as a mind of its own - with no shut-off switch. Am mentally fatigued, worn-out, exhausted - never realized that thoughts could be so tiresome, thinking so troublesome.
Yet, with all the turmoil, I've been able to somehow find the mental freedom to focus on this journal. Although freedom is fleeting, it is a welcome reprieve, for this journal has given meaning to what little life remains within me. Words are my blood.
My mind works in mysterious ways. In ten days I have to leave my home and leave everything I hold dear. I have little money, many bills and no real place to live. Yet, what do I worry about? I worry about whether or not my dog and cat, Andy and Yoyo, will have enough to eat? Will they miss me as I'll miss them?
I worry about whether or not Maggie will plant sunflowers and wildflowers in the gardens I've made. Will she, Andy and Yoyo look-up the courtyard someday and wonder where I am? Will she ever miss me, even for a minute? And will she ever speak kindly of me again.
What I know for certain is that Maggie's mother will verbally beat me to death to her last breath. That's a fact!
I know that it is going to take dedication and determination to keep myself alive for the next few months. So, I've made some plans that will keep me busy and take me away from the gloom of winter - the gloom that surrounds me, I'll take with me as companion and confident.
Once the divorce case is heard in court, I'm off to Florida. I'll come back to spend Easter with my parents and my brother's family - then I'm going to Ireland for the rest of April. Once I'm back from Ireland, I'll tie up what loose ends remain from my thread torn life - and the on Sunday, May 15th, kill myself with diligence, dignity and drugs.
May 15th is neither a random nor arbitrary date. It was chosen clearly and with care. For one thing, I have a fear of dying during the winter and being buried in a cold grave on a snow, frostbiting day. In May the ground will be warmer, there will be blossoms on trees and flowers will be ib bloom. The chill of death will be tempered by spring's rebirth.
May 15th is a week after Mother's Day, thus that holiday will be forever spared of any sadness. And it is two weeks before Memorial Day Weekend, thus any family pans or cook-outs for that weekend will not be interfered with nor interrupted. May 15th is the ideal date and at 8:00pm, right after 60 Minutes, the deed will be done.
Although I've lived a depressing life, I am very fortunate in one extremely important way, I have wonderful parents and had a most remarkable upbringing in a truly loving and caring home. My parents gave me the greatest gifts one can give to a child - love, inspiration and encouragement. And they allowed me the freedom to grow with hindrance but within the boundaries of substantive values.
They are too old to be burdened with my problems. I am too old and far too damaged for a mother's kiss that can make everything better - and am far too mangled to find comfort in a father's embrace.
For years I've been worrying about my parents dying and having to bury them. If there is a blessing in dying soon, it is that burying my parents is one concern I no longer need to worry about. What worries me is not that I must face death silently ans alone but the fact that no one will be there to hold my hand - not even my Mom And Dad.
3:30pm - Harborview _ Chatham.MA
contact: fortheheartcries@gmail.com
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