carved angel

i always think i'm "getting better" and then it hits me all over again. i can never look at the world in the same way again. i feel like there is no such thing as safe anymore. you never think that something like this could happen, so when it does, it seems like nothing is sacred. i can't tell myself that anything will be okay anymore. i thought mum would be okay. i really thought she'd make it. and she didn't. so i can't tell myself anymore that anyone has a lot of happy years left. i am inconsolable now regarding life. i used to be able to tell myself that there was no way something could happen. there was no way that chris could die young and leave me alone. there was no way that we'd ever get in a terrible accident and die. that my sister and her boyfriend would get here and back safely, "just because." no one owes me anything. not the universe. not "god" if he exists. everything and everyone i know and love could disappear at any time. it was this strange feeling i always had that everything would always be okay, that kept me sane. i don't have that now, or even any semblance of that. things will not be okay. people will not live forever just by virtue of being someone i desperately need in my own life. the universe does not care who my mother is. or what she meant to me. or how much i still need her. the universe doesn't care if you've hardly lived - if you're just a child. it doesn't care at all who ceases to be. or the impact that it has on anyone. you can beg and plead and pray, and there is nothing there to comfort you. there is nothing to help. you face an uncaring world, an uncaring existence.

sometimes i still think about killing myself, not just out of sheer grief anymore. i do miss my mum. but now it's more about having to know what has happened to her. where has she gone? is anyone in this world even close to right about what happens when you die? i want to follow her and see for myself. because the not knowing has gone beyond just troubling. it's driving me crazy. i need to know the truth. not the truth as some people speculate. a lot of people think they know what happens, but i think that's incredibly ignorant and egotistical. sure, you can believe in whatever book or philosophy your religion holds dear. but that's not enough for me. i don't have that kind of faith. i have no faith at all, except what i can see with my own eyes. from my own experience. it has gotten to the point where i feel like if i have to die to find the truth, so be it. i will gladly do that.

again, however, fear of the unknown leaves me completely stuck, like a deer in the headlights. what if there is nothing? what if i die only to find that i'm no closer to the truth than when i was alive? what if my quest for truth ends with my death? then my actions will be counterproductive. i want desperately to know what has happened to mum. but what if i were punished somehow for killing myself? what if the punishment was to never know? i have a feeling that's societal taboo talking, but it can't be helped. how much of religion or philosophy is based in fact? or social mores based on those ideas?

i think, too, part of my wishes deal with just wanting the questions and interior monologues to cease. i'm tired of listening to myself think, only to come to no conclusions whatsoever. i'm tired of thinking and wishing and wondering why. it all seems so useless.

as usual, it's all moot, because i'm too afraid to act. maybe someday, curiousity or depression will finally exceed my fear, but i'm no closer to that today.

anyway, i have a lot of pointless things to do before i do shuffle off this mortal coil, including a largish paper that's due tomorrow. in the long run, it's completely trivial, but i bet it won't feel that way tomorrow when it's time to turn it in. life is stupid that way, i guess.