Again.

These two pictures were taken on April 20, 2013. Wake up. So excited. Morgan is running in the Color Me Rad 5K! Gonna be fun. Hang out after. Stop for chick fil a. Home to change clothes and grab the dog. Headed to NoVa to see my Dad and spend the night with him. It's Manchester Earth Day. Want to stay in RVA and have fun. Dad has been crazy-ish again lately. 95 north. Quantico exit. Phone rings. It's the little brother.

Me: "cellos, violins and violas!"

Ryan: "Bear....Dad died...."

Me: "no no, I'm only 20 mins away"

Again.

I start crying and hit the steering wheel and yell about why do people keep dying without me being able to say good bye? Cry about why this is happening again. First Andrew and now Dad. Morgan offers to drive but I know it'll be worse for me to sit and not do anything. We get to Dad's house and he's still in his bed. Waiting for the funeral home to come to take his body. Ryan and I go in and out of the house to sit with him or look around or freak out. I take 3 of Dads pain killers. Choke them back and know that within an hour, I'll be ok. We talk with neighbors, we keep crying. I read him a blog entry that I wrote knowing he was not going to be with us that much longer. Oxy working through my system, I can handle this now. I have to continue on this perceived path of strength. Only losing it when I'm alone or wasted. Mostly when I'm wasted. Back to Richmond to drop off the dog, get my stuff and head back up to plan another funeral. The night of the viewing we go out with our Uncles. I end up so wasted that I pick a fight with my little brother at the bar. We stayed at his house that night and he said to his wife that night that if I was awake and he had to see me when he got home he wasn't sure how it would go. Lucky for him, I was completely passed out. Funeral time. Eyes glassy. Reeking of whatever I drank the night before. My body is tired from being so drunk. I don't want to be there. I don't want to do this again. We just did this 6mos ago. Funeral is finished, people are coming over to the house. I apologize to Ryan and tell myself not to do it again. I drink a little more slowly that day but still end up drunk...I had enough sense to say I needed to go to bed instead of stay awake and try to keep it together. Got my benzos filled in March - couldn't be responsible with them and just use them for sleep like I'm supposed to. Had to not feel. This kept going until 12 days ago. I didn't realize how much I was using all kinds of things to get by. I didn't realize that my actions when wasted, and also when sober, were ruining my relationship. Was she perfect? No. Was she doing all of the extra that I was doing? No. Here we are a year and a half later. I see it now. I see the path of all of this. Before all of this, sure I got drunk...and sometimes I was mean, but I feel like it intensified and became more frequent after all of this. It feels good in a way to be totally conscious of all that I've done. Not clouded. Honest with myself and folks around me. I've done a lot. Too much. Reckless and dangerous. I'm tired of trying to be tough. This doesn't get to define me anymore. I'm making a new path.