Coping Badly

Day 825.

It’s another day, where all plans fall through.

People make suggestions for a plan, I accommodate and clear my diary, look forward to it and then they back out.

It leaves me alone with an empty diary.
It happens all the time. 
It’s normal life but I am not normal.

The overwhelming guilt and shame for what I see in my part in Luke’s death creeps in and shadows everything. 
I’m terrified by my part in it. 
I’m inconsolable. 

And whilst I’m in it, I am done with Adams vile behavior that reemerged whilst traveling. 
Whilst I was trapped. 
Whilst there was no choice but to take it. 

Yes, he’s grieving too. 
Yes, he has reason to be angry.
I can excuse him all day long, but I am done with reasoning for him. 
It’s not really aimed at me, but it comes my way.
I must stop taking it personally.
He can own it and the consequences. 

I thought it would be so nice to travel with him, to not be alone. 
But it was hell. 

I was better off when I was catatonic. 
Oh, what sweet rewards awaited me as I emerged from catatonia. 

My longing for Luke compounds my need to remove myself from any further pain. 
That finely tuned bullshit detector is set to max, and I am done. 

My terror of the past ten years was struggling to help Luke. 
The anguish of the early years of living with a child with no impulse control is rearing its head. 
Sometimes I was just so furious, so frustrated, I couldn’t even speak. 
All I remember is the shouting, the trauma I must have caused Luke.
I handled that badly too.
The anger, the frustration that was flowing through me at times.

I could not cope.
I coped badly.
I killed Luke.
And I am so sorry.

And I am right back in wanting to end my miserable, painful, worthless self.