Love Brings Hope

Dear Sister,

I struggle with bad urges. It upsets me when I wake up thinking about ending my life. Darkness found me after Kirt’s death. I've seen it twice, perhaps a floater in my eye, but no.

This battle for me has been the dark night of the soul. I am alone. This is more difficult than anything ever. I would accept again all the brutal beatings endured in childhood to have him back, but no.  My journey continues solo.

It scares me that I understand my sister, Darlene’s dark bitter hatred. My feet are planted firmly, the dark side will not win, but I am weak, sad and hurting. Forcefully I keep thoughts on the present, when I fail and think of my husband I cry. I am tired of crying. What is it they say? I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.

The aerobics classes have helped me stay healthy, adding the workout with a trainer a couple of weeks ago tires me to the point of coming home to sleep, then waking up to suicidal thoughts. I wonder if it has anything to do with the angry rap music they play at the gym.

At month seven in the mourning process it’s a roller coaster ride with days in the pits and some days are quite normally nice, until I think of Kirt missing out on the good time, then sad. I've faced my darkest demons. Healing, the slow process begins with a whimper.

Less than three weeks to get everything in order to go to New Orleans to visit my aunt, less time to sit around the house with my memories. My aunt and I may have our difficulties, but we love each other. Love has healing qualities like nothing else, so I have hope. Today I feel better.  Thank you for loving me. God blessed me with you.