(no subject)
An hour later, and I'm still up. Though a bit more melancholy than before. I've been thinking about death tonight. Pappy and Andrea mainly. Have I ever talked about Andrea here? Ah, here we go.
The summer after my sophomore year in high school, we were having some work done on our house. A new roof, paint, things like that. I usually spent the whole summer at my grandmothers, but that night, I had stayed at home. My mom woke me up around 6 in the morning (in the summer when I should have been sleeping til noon or so) and I knew something was wrong. She said, "Does Andrea have a brother?" She had this frantic trying-not-to-cry kind of tone to her voice. I told her that she did. She asked how old he was, and I told her he was older than Andrea, but I wasn't sure by how much. She said, "I think something terrible has happened." I sat up and started getting a bit frantic myself. I told her she needed to tell me what was going on.
She said that she had heard on the radio that a man who lived on Andrea's road with Andrea's last name had shot his sister who was Andrea's age. Not much room for error in that report. I called my uncle at the radio station and told him to play me the WBOY news reel from that morning. He asked why, but I just told him to do it. He played it, and sure enough, it was the road Andrea lived on and the girl who had been shot was Andrea's age. It was so surreal.
I cried for hours. The work crew got there, and Mom explained what was going on. See, my mom works for minimum wage and at the time, was raising two kids. You don't get rich that way. We barely made ends meet and the people working on our house was a church group from Virginia. She told them what was going on, they gave me their condolences and offered a prayer. I never got a chance to really thank them for that....
Later that day, I got a call from another of Andrea's friends. She was inviting everyone to her house that evening to share memories and grieve together. I went to my grandmothers for a little while, showered, and went to Rachel's house. We all talked about the silly stuff, the personal stuff, things Andrea had done that made us all feel special somehow. We laughed, we cried, we questioned why....
The funeral was bad. Since Andrea had been shot in the head at close range with a rifle, the funeral was closed casket. That takes closure away for me. To see the "shell" of the person lying there in a box kind of seals the deal for me. That's just who I am.
Anyway, her brother is serving 40 years in Moundsville right now and comes up for parole in about 8. That was hard on me. Andrea had been like a sister to me during our freshman/sophomore years in high school. We talked about everything. We spent the night at each others houses. God I missed her.
The summer before Andrea died, my sister died. Half-sister. She was 6 months old and died of SIDS. I don't know that I've felt more pain than that of losing my sister. My dad went nuts-er after that.
Then in April I lost Pappy. I found a new Pappy song though. You know how sometimes, a song just jumps out at you and becomes an "anthem" of sorts? Well, Grams thinks Pappy had a nervous breakdown before he died. She thinks that was a contributing factor to the heart attack that killed him. This song says a lot to me.
I guess you're glad to see I'm finally leaving
I know things for you will change now for the good
But it's all that I can do to pack my suitcase
And walk away from you the way I should
And I can't seem to find the voice of reason
Everything seems upside down and right side wrong
While a part of me is here and won't like leaving
The rest of me the best of me is gone
And I'm sure no one will wonder where I've gone to
But if anyone should ask from time to time
Tell them that you finally drove me crazy
And I'm somewhere untanglin' my mind
Well tell 'em I won't be riding I'll be walking
'Cause I don't think a crazy man should drive
Anyway the car belongs to you now
Along with any part of me that's still alive
But there's really not much left you could hold on to
And if you did it wouldn't last here anyway
It would head to where the rest of me rolled on to
So even if I wanted to I couldn't stay
And I'm sure no one will wonder where I've gone to
But if anyone should ask from time to time
Tell them that you finally drove me crazy
And I'm somewhere untanglin' my mind
And I'm somewhere untanglin' my mind
It reminds me of him. Of losing him. Of loving him. I miss my Pappy. I miss my friend. I miss my youth. I'm 18 years old. Almost 19. I shouldn't feel this old. I shouldn't linger this close to depression. Mom says I dwell on things too much.... Maybe so. But I don't know how to stop. I was born to a manic-depressive father. Is that hereditary? Should I maybe get a psych profile done?
Ack. I'm tired of feeling empty. I'm tired of feeling alone. I'm tired of feeling inadequate. I'm tired.
The summer after my sophomore year in high school, we were having some work done on our house. A new roof, paint, things like that. I usually spent the whole summer at my grandmothers, but that night, I had stayed at home. My mom woke me up around 6 in the morning (in the summer when I should have been sleeping til noon or so) and I knew something was wrong. She said, "Does Andrea have a brother?" She had this frantic trying-not-to-cry kind of tone to her voice. I told her that she did. She asked how old he was, and I told her he was older than Andrea, but I wasn't sure by how much. She said, "I think something terrible has happened." I sat up and started getting a bit frantic myself. I told her she needed to tell me what was going on.
She said that she had heard on the radio that a man who lived on Andrea's road with Andrea's last name had shot his sister who was Andrea's age. Not much room for error in that report. I called my uncle at the radio station and told him to play me the WBOY news reel from that morning. He asked why, but I just told him to do it. He played it, and sure enough, it was the road Andrea lived on and the girl who had been shot was Andrea's age. It was so surreal.
I cried for hours. The work crew got there, and Mom explained what was going on. See, my mom works for minimum wage and at the time, was raising two kids. You don't get rich that way. We barely made ends meet and the people working on our house was a church group from Virginia. She told them what was going on, they gave me their condolences and offered a prayer. I never got a chance to really thank them for that....
Later that day, I got a call from another of Andrea's friends. She was inviting everyone to her house that evening to share memories and grieve together. I went to my grandmothers for a little while, showered, and went to Rachel's house. We all talked about the silly stuff, the personal stuff, things Andrea had done that made us all feel special somehow. We laughed, we cried, we questioned why....
The funeral was bad. Since Andrea had been shot in the head at close range with a rifle, the funeral was closed casket. That takes closure away for me. To see the "shell" of the person lying there in a box kind of seals the deal for me. That's just who I am.
Anyway, her brother is serving 40 years in Moundsville right now and comes up for parole in about 8. That was hard on me. Andrea had been like a sister to me during our freshman/sophomore years in high school. We talked about everything. We spent the night at each others houses. God I missed her.
The summer before Andrea died, my sister died. Half-sister. She was 6 months old and died of SIDS. I don't know that I've felt more pain than that of losing my sister. My dad went nuts-er after that.
Then in April I lost Pappy. I found a new Pappy song though. You know how sometimes, a song just jumps out at you and becomes an "anthem" of sorts? Well, Grams thinks Pappy had a nervous breakdown before he died. She thinks that was a contributing factor to the heart attack that killed him. This song says a lot to me.
I guess you're glad to see I'm finally leaving
I know things for you will change now for the good
But it's all that I can do to pack my suitcase
And walk away from you the way I should
And I can't seem to find the voice of reason
Everything seems upside down and right side wrong
While a part of me is here and won't like leaving
The rest of me the best of me is gone
And I'm sure no one will wonder where I've gone to
But if anyone should ask from time to time
Tell them that you finally drove me crazy
And I'm somewhere untanglin' my mind
Well tell 'em I won't be riding I'll be walking
'Cause I don't think a crazy man should drive
Anyway the car belongs to you now
Along with any part of me that's still alive
But there's really not much left you could hold on to
And if you did it wouldn't last here anyway
It would head to where the rest of me rolled on to
So even if I wanted to I couldn't stay
And I'm sure no one will wonder where I've gone to
But if anyone should ask from time to time
Tell them that you finally drove me crazy
And I'm somewhere untanglin' my mind
And I'm somewhere untanglin' my mind
It reminds me of him. Of losing him. Of loving him. I miss my Pappy. I miss my friend. I miss my youth. I'm 18 years old. Almost 19. I shouldn't feel this old. I shouldn't linger this close to depression. Mom says I dwell on things too much.... Maybe so. But I don't know how to stop. I was born to a manic-depressive father. Is that hereditary? Should I maybe get a psych profile done?
Ack. I'm tired of feeling empty. I'm tired of feeling alone. I'm tired of feeling inadequate. I'm tired.