My Rock Bottom.

October 6,2017

July 6, 2017 wasn’t a normal day.

Joey and I were at the beach, our first vacation kid-free since before we were married. The night before , my sister-in-law (who was keeping our girls) had said our littles were having a hard time missing us- and our oldest had a cough. Sure enough, that morning of the 6th, she asked us to come home.
We quickly packed and hit the road for the 6.5 hour drive home. I was bummed, I wasn’t ready to leave the bliss of beach life- and we were supposed to be celebrating my 30th birthday (July 7) on the beach. But, I did miss my girls, bad! Maybe more than they missed me. So , homeward bound.

When we got home we threw our luggage in the house, all changed in to swim suits, and took our girls to the neighborhood pool. It was still kinda early in the day and we wanted to have some fun with them after being apart so long.

30 minutes later I realized I had a few missed calls from my old boss, then a text- so I called back. She let me know my brother’s fiancé had rushed out of work (she works where I previously did) something was going on with my brother, and she thought I should know. I called my mom (who was at the beach with friends) to see what was up, no answer. I put the phone down and kinda thought hard for a minute. I was sure everything was fine... but I called my Pawpaw anyways.
“Hey Pawpaw! Just wanted to check in, everything ok?”

And that’s when my world changed.

“Kelly... I’m so sorry. I don’t want to tell you this over the phone... Jason. He passed away.”

Shock.

I started screaming, crying. Sobbing. Big, loud, animal sounding sobs. Joey and the girls were confused, I just yelled at Joey we had to go. He came to me and held me- I just stood there, in front of everyone at the pool, shaking, and crying: “Jasons DEAD!”

We loaded up the car, I could not stop sobbing. The girls were panicking, crying, asking me what was wrong. This was the first time they’ve ever seen me cry. “I’m okay, mommy is okay, everything is fine.”

We got in to the house, I pulled clothes out of my unpacked luggage and threw them on. I told Joey to stay with the girls, and I left. I went to my dads house. From there, I went to my Pawpaw’s house- where Jason was.

All the while trying to get my mom on the phone. Then, she answered. And I quickly realized I was going to be the one to tell her, her son died. And she’s 8 hours away. I will never, ever forget that moment. That conversation. It hurts just to think about it.

The drive to my paw paws I just kept sobbing and screaming out loud “oh God! Oh God!” Over and over again. Then all of a sudden I stopped crying, and out loud said “it’s okay. He’s fine. It’s just a mistake. I’ll get there and we’ll all see, it’s a misunderstanding.” I dried my tears and felt a sense of calm wash over me.

I pulled up to the house. Family was there. The police were there.
I walked inside and went straight to my Pawpaw, who hugged me so tight “I’m so sorry Kelly. I’m so sorry Baby”.

“Where is he?”, I said.
“He’s in his room, but I don’t know that you want to go in,” said my uncle.
“I can’t go, I haven’t gone in.” - Paw paw

I quietly walked out of the room, and opened the door to my brothers room.
Slowly, cause I was scared to look. But I had to look. I had to see. I had convinced myself it was a misunderstanding.

There he was.

I broke down.

He looked asleep. The tv was on, the remote was right by his hand. It looked like he’d just fallen asleep watching tv.
Except for his mouth. There was foam coming out of his mouth, bubbles popping as the air escaped out of his body.

My big brother. My only brother. Gone.

I went in and out of that room several times, I couldn’t bear to see him, but I had to see, all at the same time.

The funeral home was a surreal experience.

Making arrangements, for my big brother. Sitting at the table with the funeral home director, my dad and his wife, my mom, and my brother's fiance'. My mom got up a couple times crying, leaving the room to try and calm down. My dad sat there silently, focused. My almost sister-in-law was asking lots of questions, taking notes. I sat there, angry. Heartbroken, quiet.

What day? what time? which casket? what music? who would speak? who do we pick for ushers? So many details, so many decisions to be made.

A different day, Josie and I sat with the funeral home director, trying to pick out 50 pictures. Sounds like a lot, but it wasn't enough. That limited number was so difficult. How do you pick only 50 pictures of someone you love? How do you condense 32 years in to just 50 pictures? As we sat there digging through pictures, the funeral home director came in again. To discuss the visitation. He began telling us, that in his professional opinion he would not advise that we have an open casket because of how Jason looked. Josie and I looked at each other confused. What does that mean? How he looks?

He began to tell us, ' We worked on him for a long time. They were here until late last night, working several hours. They did the best they could, but I don't think we need to have an open casket. I would also advise the family not to view him. Now, if you really want to, I can set that up privately for you, but again: I don't think it is a good idea.'

I don't understand. I saw him, not that long ago....right after he passed. Aside from the foam in his mouth- he looked asleep, he looked like Jason. What is he talking about?

He continued,' Due to the heroine use, he...'

"I'm sorry, WHAT? Heroine? Jason didn't do heroine." I interrupted.

He looked me in the eye, and began again, ' In my experience, his body looks exactly like others I've seen that pass due to a heroine over dose. He is very swollen, very blue. I'm sorry. But again, in my experience- this is what it is. Heroine. I think it would be very upsetting for you all to see him this way. I think it best you remember him as he was when he was alive."

Shock. Anger. Fury. Confusion.

I don't understand. Jason didn't do heroine. He was an alcoholic. For years he has been an alcoholic. We thought he passed due to taking what he thought was Xanax, but ended up containing Fentanyl. Where di heroin even come from? He never even smoked weed, he didn't do drugs. This makes no sense.

Now it dawns on me, that I wouldn't get to see my brother again. I had been trying to prepare myself for the dreaded closing of the casket right before the funeral was to begin. I remember losing it when they closed the casket at my granny's funeral. I knew it would be hard. But now? Now I'm being told I won't see him again, that I can see him again....but shouldn't.

And then I realize- we have to tell my parents. How can I possibly hit them both, yet again, with another heartbreak? My mom never got to see him. The last time my dad saw him, was when he was lying on his bed- gone. How do I tell them we shouldn't see him again, how do I tell them there is now speculation of heroin use?

The day of the funeral, my mom and Josie decided to have them open the casket to see him, with his face covered. My dad opted not to, he said he did his goodbyes at the scene when Jason was first found. I went back and forth over and over again. I wanted to see him. But, I was also scared to see him. I couldn't bear the thought of never seeing him again, yet I was scared of what I would see. My husband pleaded with me not to do it. I was already having a hard time picturing his lifeless body laying on the bed. Gone. I was already staring in the mirror, and seeing his face instead of mine. My husband was sure it was a bad idea. In the end, I opted not to see him. Which realistically, was probably the right decision. Yet, I've regretted it every day since.

When we were preparing for the visitation, I was the first to arrive. The Funeral Director lead me to the room, and shut the doors. I found myself alone, staring at a closed casket, with a slide show of the pictures we had picked out playing in the background. I just stared. No way my big brother was in that casket, it just didn't feel real. I wanted to see him, to touch him. I just stood on the opposite side of the room, as far away as I could, staring at the casket. I turned to look at the slide show....bad idea. Just a few pictures in I felt the tears come, so I turned around and shut my eyes, forcing the tears away. My parents would be here any minute, I needed to be strong and keep it together. One side of the room was the casket, the other side was the slide show. There was nowhere I could look that didn't hurt. Flowers everywhere, pictures displayed all over. I couldn't breath. I sat down and put my head in my hands, playing it all over again in my head, the chaos of the last couple days. My mom came in, and broke down. Josie came in, and broke down. I just stood there, in a daze, just stood and watched. There, but not really there.

I spent the next 4.5 hours hugging people, saying "Thanks so much for coming, did you see my Mom? Did you see my Dad?" over and over again to dozens and dozens of people. Every time I turned around someone was grabbing me, hugging me, shaking my hand, rubbing my back. I didn't cry once. I plastered a smile on my face, and thanked people over and over again. My cousin Christina must have seen it all over my face, or maybe somewhere in my eyes- she came over "Hey Kel, your mom is looking for you, out this way." Pulled me away, and smiled at me. She could see I was drowning, I needed a break. I walked quickly outside in to the fresh air, and took a breath. Closed my eyes. I felt like I needed a shower. I felt like I needed to breath deep. I felt like I was going to crack. I was so busy comforting visitors, and making sure my parents were okay- constantly scanning the room to check on them both. I was so busy playing hostess. I was trying to be strong, I was trying to handle it. I didn't want to do it anymore, I just couldn't breath. At one point I actually found myself scanning the room, looking for Jason. I literally forgot, and I was looking for my big brother. He knew how much I hated things like that, how hard it was for me. I'd normally seek him out, lean in to him, and just take a breath. We'd talk, he'd make jokes, we'd escape for a few minutes.

But he wasn't there, because this was his funeral.

He wasn't there. But yet, he was. He was in that casket, right? That casket right there, the closed one, the one people are pouring over- touching, rubbing, crying in front of, staring at. He was in there, wasn't he? But he couldn't be. My mind just couldn't process that.

My mind was refusing to accept that my brother was gone.

* Funeral Speech *

October 7, 2017

My brother is dead.

I say it to myself frequently through out the day. Never out loud, I can’t stand to say the words “dead” or “died”. But my thoughts, inside, always say it.

My brother is dead.

It’s like my brain reminding me constantly throughout the day. Every time those words creep in to my mind my heart breaks a little more.

Suddenly an only child, my big brother is gone. He isn’t coming back. This really is happening.

It really happened.

Today is the first time since my brother passed away, that I thought about dying. About killing myself.

The thing is, I won’t. I’m not worried I will. However, I am worried that the thought even popped in to my head.

It’s Saturday. My husband is camping with friends- I’ve known about it for weeks now but have been dreading it. I’ve never liked when he’s away, probably left over from his army days when he was deployed for 15 months to Iraq. But since Jason, I panic about being alone.

As soon as he left yesterday the anxiety set it, I began texting any and everyone asking what their plans were.

I’m scared of being alone. Dreading having to step up and be THE parent this weekend. I have great kids, they aren’t the issue, I am.

Earlier I tried laying them down for naps, and I was going to nap too. Instead my five year old kept trying to sneak downstairs to watch tv. I was pissed, furious. But I didn’t flip out, I didn’t yell. I calmly talked to her about it. And then, I just started crying. I’ve held it in for months now. And I was trying so hard to hold it back, the lump in my throat felt like razor blades. I finally told her to go down stairs and watch tv cause I knew I was about to lose it, that’s not fair. It’s not fair for her to witness mommy breaking down.

I quickly texted my mom: ‘ I got so angry at Adelynn, and I didn’t flip out or yell. I calmly talked to her. She’s in my bed now cause I’ve been trying for an hour and a half to get her to lay down, penny is asleep.

And I can’t stop crying. And it’s freaking her out. And I’m not sure what to do. I’m just at a loss! Like I’ve officially lost my mind or something. It’s not fair to her. I’m venting to you cause I don’t want joey to feel bad about being gone.’

I laid there and just thought, I could kill myself.

Although I instantly knew I wouldn’t. Couldn’t. I love my girls, I love my husband. I can’t bear the thought of doing that to them, of never seeing them again.

This is when I realize, I need help. But who do I call? I realize it’s silly to call my husband- I’m not going to hurt myself. And he deserves, MORE than deserves a weekend away. I think hard about calling my mother-in-law... but more often than not they have grand kids at their house. So, if they don’t have kids there today, I sure as hell don’t want to be the one to drop my kids off with them, they deserve time to themselves.

I go smoke, for probably the 15th time so far today. Check the mail, and surprise: two of my favorites things- Lularoe clothes and a bottle of essential oil, both free! Both gifts from friends. I think ‘huh. Wonder what they’d think if they knew I got these on a day I thought about killing myself.’

I wander around the house, with anxious and scary thoughts. I start cleaning the playroom. I realize I’m hungry, cause I haven’t eaten since lunch yesterday. But, I don’t feel like eating. So I get some water.

It’s days like these that the realistic side of me worries about the unhinged side of me. It’s a constant battle between two halves of my self.

The anger stage of grief.

For me it means, being split in half.

One half: HULK. Angry. Furious. Short fuse. No tolerance. No patience. No filter.

The other half: aware of the first half. Aware it's a symptom. Aware I shouldn't lash out. Aware I need to keep my mouth shut when those angry words want to spew. Aware everyone is NOT fighting me. Aware I NEED to get it under control.

I'm angry. All the time. At everyone, and everything. There is a constant battle in my mind of these two halves of me. I'm currently broken. And trying like hell to keep it together.

It's been (almost) 3 months since my brother passed away. I suffered two major losses (Granny & Jason) in 11 months. I totally fell apart. It takes all I have to get out of bed and function. I hurt, all the time.

I want to not care, I want to get over it, I want to move on, I want to be happy.

But I am totally broken. I don't know how to "do this", or how to fix it. I know, I know- time heals. But I need it to hurry up. I liked the shock/denial stage much better.

I’m thankful I haven’t gone so far over the edge that I’d be unable to take care of my girls. They luckily have no idea what’s going on with me, haven’t noticed any kind of difference, it’s just another Saturday for them. Thank God.

This version of myself showing its face today, worries me. I worry for myself, and feel incredibly alone. I’m realizing more than ever today just how much I’ve been relying on my husband. To take point on parenting and help me with the kids. To be sure I eat. To just be here.

October 8, 2017

I wrote a suicide note yesterday. That was a first. I was sitting on the couch, while my kids played in the play room. I picked up my phone, and just started typing.

The tears came, my heart broke. This was rock bottom.

‘I love you. I’m sorry.

I’m tired of feeling crazy. Of trying to keep it together.

I’m tired of being broke. I don’t want to worry about money anymore.

I’m tired of being a bad wife. 

The girls deserve a better mom. A happier mom. A mom with patience. A mom who does fun things with them. A mom that doesn’t worry so much about a clean house and gets down on the floor and plays.

All three of you deserve better. 

I’ve known I need help for a while now. But, we can’t afford therapy. We can’t afford for me to have a nervous break down and end up out of work and locked in some facility. We can’t afford for me to get better. 

I know you’ll be upset, because I know that you love me. And oh, how I love you. I always have, no matter what, with my whole heart. You are my best friend. I could never imagine living my life with anyone else.

But I want you to. I want you to be blissfully happy. I want you to enjoy your life. I don’t want you to have to carry me anymore. You deserve so much more than I’ve given you the last 10 years.

I love you babe, forever.’

I quietly cried on the couch, wondering how I got here. And, more importantly, where do I go from here?

I thought about calling someone, to come. To come take the girls. Or to just come be here, stay with us. I ran through the list of people I could call. But, each person I came to... I found a reason not to call.

Joey? No. He’s camping. He deserves this. He needs time away. If I call him he’ll rush home. And I will have once again ruined something for him.

My mom? No. She’s working. She needs the money right now, she’s fighting with all she’s got to keep custody of my niece. She just lost her son. She’s taking care of her dad. She has enough on her plate.

My mother-in-law? No. She would do it, if I explained. But, she and Dad deserve a quiet weekend together.

Anne Marie? No. Her husband is deployed. She’s alone. She’s about to have a new baby any day. She’s got more than a full plate. And she’s in Pittsburgh. But she’d call Joey. Or Ashley. She’d call someone.

As I’m running through the list, silently crying so my kids don’t hear- my best friend Brittany FaceTimes me. I let it ring. I think for a second about answering... but I don’t. I let it ring.

I put my phone down, and wipe my tears. I can’t think about it anymore. I’m just so tired. 

It’s Sunday. I haven’t showered since Thursday. I haven’t eaten. I’m tired. But, Joey comes home today. He’ll be here soon, and it’ll all be okay. It’ll go away, it’ll go back to normal. He’ll be here to help me.

I can’t tell him about this.

October 10, 2017

I told Joey about the letter.

Kicking myself now cause he’s upset and worried.

It’s a Tuesday morning, our normal morning of waking up late scrambling to get the girls ready and to daycare. 

I spent that time snapping at both girls, just being mean. That’s not the kind of mommy I want to be, they just don’t deserve it. And all I’ve been lately is mean. I hate it.

As soon as we pull out of the driveway I feel the tears come. I’ve got to get my shit together. I don’t want them seeing me cry, I can’t be that crazy mom walking in to daycare crying.

I call Joey after to tell him about an issue with daycare, and quickly get off the phone cause I can’t hold back the tears. He texts me right away, he could hear I was upset.

And it just all came gushing out. I told him I needed help, quickly. I told him about the letter I wrote. I told him I wouldn’t do anything stupid, so he didn’t need to worry...

He’s worried.

I’m falling apart, right this second.

But I have to go to work. How funny is that? Here I am crying in my car, telling my husband I thought about ending my life..and I’m most concerned with getting to work on time.

It’s time to do something, immediately. For my family, cause God they don’t deserve this.

January 2020

I re-read the above, and tear up. I feel so sad for that version of Kelly. So hurt, confused, lost, angry, hopeless. This was 100% my rock bottom moment, and somehow I thought to document it all. 

Just days after this weekend, I was let go from my job. Another hit, that I took very hard A couple months later, we lost my Paw Paw. It seemed to be one thing after another. I just couldn't seem to get on top of things.

I was drinking myself sick- as in, I would drink and drink and drink until I was physically ill. I did this almost nightly, while also just flat out not eating. For someone with Alcoholism in their family, whom made sure to NOT turn out as an addict...I was well on my way.

I look back now and am so thankful I'm here today. I'm so thankful I reached out to my husband, mom, friends for help-that I finally spoke up. I finally got some help and began working on turning things around.

I am in a much better place now, thank God. I still have my moments of crying over my brother, I think I probably always will. Sometimes it hurts so badly I can't take it. However, I'm no longer in that dark place of quite literally not wanting to breathe anymore.

Grief is a very hard place to live in. I'm just grateful I managed to come out on the other side of it, since very clearly there was a time I didn't think I ever would.

I was heard.

2/10/16

So, this is awkward. But important.

Last week we went for a couples massage for our anniversary. Some stuff went down. I take responsibility for not saying anything, I went numb and was in shock. My body language was screaming but no words came out.

I was ready to live in blissful denial and act as if nothing had happened. After some encouragement from two people I decided to cooperate with the police. That was yesterday morning (2/9).

Tonight I got a call from the detective that the suspect in question was arrested for sexual assault and battery, on felony charges. Shocked, scared, relieved, sad.

See I'm really really good at burying stuff. And I wanted to do that.

Then I decided to do the right thing, but more importantly as a mom of two daughters- I would want them to speak up and come forward. Yesterday was so incredibly hard and exhausting - I was a hot mess of emotions. Being questioned by the police was a surreal experience and left me emotionally drained. Today I feel so much better knowing the outcome and knowing this man can't do this to women anymore.

Praying it doesn't go to trial cause I don't want to have to testify- I will if I have to, but praying he doesn't fight it.

5/20/15

A lot has happened.

The story hit the media; I got a call from the police department warning me. They assured me my information was removed from reports, but also cautioned me that if people wanted to find out my identity- they would. I was scared. I didn't want my name attached to it, I still didn't want anyone to know. I obsessed over all the links on google I found, the Facebook posts, news articles- I couldn't stop reading. Then I made the mistake of reading people's comments... It crushed me. It made me sick. It made me angry. How ignorant and hateful people can be. As I began reading comments, one of my best friends texted me and said "I know you. Don't go reading comments; it'll only hurt you. People are idiots".

Too late.

The thing is, after it hit the media? A handful of women came forward saying the same man, did the same thing to them. I couldn't believe it. Now, there's a list of victims. And my experience was mild compared to some of the others- it's heartbreaking. Makes me want to throw up.

However, he got out on bond a couple weeks ago. He somehow paid CASH, and was released. So now, we wait. I have a feeling it'll go to trial since he hasn't plead guilty so far. And I really don't want to go through that. The business is still open, still servicing people. He isn't supposed to be involved... But who knows really. The ownership of the place has changed hands but that means nothing. He is walking around freely, and most likely still involved in the business. It's sickening.

http://www.fox5atlanta.com/news/http://www.fox5atlanta.com/news/96039603http://www.fox5atlanta.com/news/96033595-story3595-story

6/3/16

The DA called me today. That was surreal. I felt my heart drop as soon as they told me who they were and began talking about the case.

They warned me his lawyers may try to contact me.

They told me his inditement hearing is next week. From there we find out if he chooses to go to trial. I have a feeling it will, but I'm hoping his lawyers advise him against it due to the stack of evidence and list of victims. I really, really don't want to go through a trial.

I'm so ready for this to be over. I forget about it finally, and then I get a phone call or email from the detective and/or DA-- and it brings it all back.

There is so much shame and fear I feel. Like I have this dirty secret, when really- it's not my fault. The logical side of me knows that. The victim in me is confused. 

I find myself going over every second of that experience: was it my fault? I should've done something. What color were his shoes again? What was he wearing? I specifically remember his shoes because that's all I could see: his feet. My mind was reeling but no words came out. My body language was screaming but it made no difference. My husband was RIGHT THERE a few feet away, but I felt numb and trapped. It hurts me that my husband blames himself: but how could he have known? I blame myself: why didn't I flip my shit and cause a scene? I shut down, went internal, numb. I just froze.

I'm angry, and I'm sad. I'm ashamed.

I want it to be over with already.

6/10/16

He has been indicted on 30 charges this week.

 14 victims total including myself.

http://patch.com/georgia/suwanee/suwanee-massage-parlor-owner-abused-13-women-indictment-claims

2/8/17

Well, shortly after everything came out in the news, and he was indicted...

He fled the country- to Canada. They stopped him at the border, and he's been sitting in a Canadian jail ever since. Apparently the extradition process takes a while (it's been almost a year).

I got a call from the DA today; the extradition order was finally approved, so he should be back in the country in 6-9 months. Once here, court happens.

I just want to forget and move on.

2/27/17

At my last therapy session we started discussing why I'm so closed off, don't like being touched or held. I chalked it up to having two toddlers always on me, grabbing me, all over me! But then my therapist brought up the massage. We dove in to it as much as I tried to brush it off. And I teared up- it was the first time I had been emotional over it since the day I was interviewed by police. 

Apparently, It's affected me more than I've realized.

3/3/2017

I've been hurting for two weeks. Sciatica, lower back, shoulder, neck. I'm to the point I can't turn my neck to the left. Joey has tried rubbing my shoulders (which have been a constant issue for almost 5 years now) and it gave me some temporary relief. Normally, I'd go get a massage to get it all loosened up and worked out. Normally I'd go on Groupon to find a $30 one hour massage since I can't afford the standard $100+. But I don't trust it anymore. I found a place local that will do your first massage for $40, I can swing that. However the employee I spoke to either thinks I'm a huge prude, or I have a thing for women. I asked probably 8 times "and this is with a female right?" So much thought and mental prep shouldn't have to go in to it, but this is the new normal I suppose.

When I got here I asked to use the bathroom first- as soon as I started walking down the hall way my anxiety flared. It looked the same as the place I last went. Bathroom was in the same spot. I remember going to the bathroom immediately after that massage to just take a breath and have a moment alone.

Now sitting in the lobby- I'm anxious. Just waiting, for something that's supposed to be relaxing. I asked again, feeling silly, to be sure I have a female doing the massage.

I'm ready to have my pain go away, loosened up, but I'm also ready to just get this over with. I used to love getting a massage- it was always such a treat since I don't have the money laying around to do it often-and so relaxing. First world problems I know, but I'm hoping one day I don't give massages a second thought and can enjoy it. I'm hoping once I get back in to the room I can relax and really enjoy it.

5/11/17

Well, heard from the DA today. He's back in GA, incarcerated. Hearing is June 5. They have offered him a plea deal: 25 years in prison, and probation the rest of his natural life. DA doesn't expect him to accept the deal, so it may end up going to trial I guess. Awesome.

8/4/17

Well, court date was two weeks ago- he asked for a continuance to seek new counsel... so back to square one.

9/1/2017

Court date has been rescheduled every single time. According to the DA it may be back on the calendar in October.

10/6/2017

Zero update.

10/16/17

Got a letter in the mail, rescheduled for 10/24. We’ll see if it actually happens. Losing hope at this point.

3/2/18

Apparently, his lawyers submitted a “quash motion” but then changed their minds... now Court is set for May. The DA emailed me asking me to come in for a meeting to discuss legal issues with me. I go today at 2pm and I’m very nervous, but also curious. Just not sure what to expect. I really want it over with, resolved. The plea deal is still on the table, but according to the DA his lawyers still don’t like it so, it hasn’t been accepted. 25 years in prison plus probation for life. 

Curious to see what I learn today.

- what I learned: the DA and staff I met with were very supportive. But also let me know my charges against him are not “strong enough” or what was done to me not “bad enough” that my experience likely won’t be included in the trial at all. On one hand I’m glad, and thankful my experience wasn’t worse. On the other hand, it makes me sick thinking of the other women who did have it worse. And, why is my experience minimized at the same time? What was done was not okay, but because it wasn’t “bad enough” I don’t have a voice? 

Our justice system is fucked up.

11/11/2018

After months of zero response from the DA, finally got an answer- things have continued to be pushed month after month. They are hoping for a trial... in the spring.

1/10/2019

DA just called. He has requested a trial, so it is scheduled for the week of April 22. Now I wait on another call from the DA to schedule a meeting discussing me testifying. I’m shaking.

4/17/2019

I met with the DA today. They seem hopeful for a trial in June. They gave me an official order to be in court. We went over my original interview with the police. It was rough. I was nervous but determined. I’ll be one of the first to testify, misdemeanors first in support of the felony charges.

My charge won’t actually be tried - as part of the deal with Canada when they extradited him, that’s fine. He’s looking at 25 years to life for each of the four felonies- works for me. I don’t see now any jury wouldn’t find him guilty. 

I’m so ready to get it over with, I pray we have the trial in June once and for all. I left that meeting crying and all kinds of emotional. It took me back to that place three years ago. THREE years ago... lord.

6/21/2019
It's over.

A Star Is Born- Trigger Warning/Spoilers

I watched the Barbara version of A Star Is Born and loved every minute, when I heard Bradley Cooper was doing a new version with Gaga I couldn't wait to see it. I listened to the soundtrack long before I actually saw the movie and ate up everything on social media I could find.

What I didn't realize was how much of a trigger it would end up being for me when I finally did see it. I mean, I had seen one version previously- I knew it would likely be a little different, but I had no idea I would react to it as strongly as I did.

Last night, I excitedly snuggled up in bed after the kids were down, and pressed play. I enjoyed every song, the chemistry between Bradley and Gaga, and then slowly I became entranced with the underlying theme playing out. I think a lot of people watch the movie and focus on the music, the romance, the chemistry, and ultimately the heartache at the end.

Know what I saw? My big brother.

No, he wasn't a rock star, or even a musician. He was, however, an alcoholic with a big heart that ultimately never could over come his demons or addiction. I silently watched with tears streaming down my face. When it was over I turned the tv off, rolled over, and grabbed my book. It was sort of like when you watch a scary movie before bed and then decide 'hey I need to watch something funny before I go to sleep or I'm going to have nightmares from hell!'. But I couldn't focus on my book, I just kept crying harder. I finally rolled over to Joey, and with out me even having to say anything he knew. 'I'm sorry babe, hit a little too close to home.' and I just let it out as he held me.

I haven't cried over my brother in a while. There was a time when I cried over him daily. We're quickly approaching the two year anniversary of his death, and honestly I'm much better than I was even just 6 months ago. I hear a lot about triggers, to make sure you identify them so you can avoid them or learn how to deal with them.
While I was in New Orleans a couple weeks ago, someone was talking about their brother that passed. I sat there and listed for a few minutes, and then finally looked at my best friend and said "I'm going to walk away for a few." She came over to me shortly after," You doing ok?" cause she knew- I didn't even have to address it. That is a trigger for me, it sends me down the dark hole quick cause it takes me right back to that day I found out he died. I'm too much of an empath, I'm not at the point where I can sit there and talk to someone who also lost their sibling without soaking up all their pain along with mine. That particular instance, it just wasn't the time or place for me to sit and chat with someone about losing a sibling- Mari Gras, New Orleans, booze flowing- recipe for disaster, so I removed myself from the situation.

Seeing Jackson in rehab- seeing him drink himself sick- seeing him sob and apologize for hurting the ones he loves- seeing Ally's manager completely shatter him post rehab- and then seeing him work through the suicidal thoughts and finally making the decision to take his life. Seeing the aftermath of a heartbroken Ally, Jackson's brother, and the emotional song Ally sung at the end. I just fell to pieces.

Even right now, 5 a.m. the next morning- I can't get it out of my head and I can't seem to dry up these tears. I didn't sleep well, and woke up crying. I miss my brother. I'm so, so sad he is gone. I'm heartbroken for all those big hearted people fighting addiction, and devastated over those who lose the battle.

Who knew this movie would hold so many triggers for me, especially since I had seen a previous version and did fine with it. Don't get me wrong- the movie was amazing, so well done. I loved it. But, I don't know that I could watch it again anytime soon because of all the triggers towards the end. I'll happily listen to the soundtrack, and maybe one day I'll be able to watch it again with a different perspective.

self love.

where to begin?

i've had a not so awesome few..several, months. and i finally, finally, decided to do something about it.

my comfort zone and regular hang out has quickly become my bed. reading in bed, netflixing in bed, eating in bed..you get the idea. fatigue has become my new friend-- it takes me hours to fall asleep, i toss and turn all night long, wake up feeling exhausted- and go through the day feeling sleepy and foggy, never fully awake. never waking up feeling rested. i take any and every opportunity i have to nap. ive been to church once since october. i'm off every single friday from work and spend it doing laundry, chores around the house, sitting in bed watching tv, and napping. i've suddenly realized i've developed some kind of social anxiety- i make plans and instantly regret them, wanting to get out of the house but wanting to stay home.

last week i decided to work on putting some effort in to showing self love.

i made an appointment for a physical; i cant remember the last time i had one, and i'm hoping some blood work will show something 'off' to explain the constant exhaustion.

i made an appointment for a teeth cleaning, i'm just way over due.

i made an appointment that i have cancelled and rescheduled several times, at the dermatologist to have a few questionable spots checked cause apparently thats what adults do?

i also made an appointment with a therapist, to start seeing as regularly as i can afford, to really work on stuff. (i started that last week)

i went back to church week before last, and plan to go this sunday as well. i joined a small group that starts next month and seems to be perfect for my life right now.

when i can save up some money i'm treating myself to a hair cut/color/highlight; i maybe get my hair done twice a year- and lets be real ladies, its a hell of a pick me up.

also, when i can afford it, i want to get mysekf a working diffuser and re-stock my oils. it helped my mood, sleep, and overall health when i used them regularly.

i've looked in to a yoga class down the street to potentially give a try once a week...i've yet to go but seriously thinking about it. courage needed.

so, baby steps.

grief.

today has been weird.

i haven't been to church since october. joey hasn't stopped asking, every week ' you going to church with us today?' and my answer is always no. end of conversation. he hasn't pressured me. people from church, friends, family have asked me whats up, where i've been. i always have an excuse...some genuine, others not.

today i had a couple friends text me, different folks reaching out. joey came home and told me everyone misses me, and then we had a chat.

i'm not okay, with my granny being gone.

i'm not angry at God, i don't blame Him.

i just don't want to go to church right now.

going to church makes me feel, and i just don't want to feel.

even on my most joyous day, church makes me feel- as a good church should! a song can bring me to tears, a sermon gets my mind working, my heart moving. so its just the last place i want to be when my heart is totally shattered.

i've been trying to 'fake it till i make it' with this thing. the first month after she died, i totally and completely fell apart- i had a very difficult time functioning day to day. it started affecting me in all aspects of my life at home, and at work- everywhere. so i tried to suck it up and move on, which meant trying to bury it, be numb.

i stopped going to church. i stopped going to small group (both of them). practically stopped praying altogether. i stopped everything and anything that made me feel.

i sleep whenever possible- thats called depression folks. i literally plan my days around sleep, if i can squeeze in a nap, go to bed early, whatever. yet...at night? i toss and turn, lay awake till 1am, i feel like i haven't had a proper nights sleep in months.

i avoided going to my granny's house, cause it hurt too bad. i didn't want to see her not there. yesterday we had our extended family christmas there, and i tried to think of any reason not to go. but i had to. i kept looking at her chair, just staring. remembering the last time i saw her sitting in it- the day she went to hospice, my mom and i cleaning her up and changing her clothes. watching the numbers going up and down on her oxygen monitor, reminding her to breath through her nose. trying to get her to eat.

staring at the couch, remembering that day, seeing her laying on the couch barely awake, struggling to breath, but still trying to visit with me.

i didn't want to be there yesterday.

my niece brings her up, she did last night (cousin sleep over!) and i changed the subject. i can't talk about her. i don't want to feel it.

i dream of her often, but not sweet dreams. replaying her last seconds here. i was holding her hand with my left hand, sobbing in to her shoulder, with my right hand over her heart- feeling its last beat, feeling her last gasp of air.

most of the time, i hurt. all the time. then sometimes, i'm numb. and it doesn't feel real that she isn't here.

i listen to the speech i gave at her funeral, a few times a week. i listen to the song josie sang at her funeral over and over. i look at her pictures daily.

i know this isn't the right way to handle it, i am aware of that....but its just how i'm dealing right now.

how is she not here?

Glory to God.

I've had several folks ask if there is somewhere I have this little story from start to finish, so, here it is. (Although, it is not finished!) I also had people ask how to share the vlogs I have posted on my Facebook: each post is public so you're able to share it, or tag friends in it if they'd like to see it. (I've had several people ask me about this, I'm not just like "hey make me internet famous and share my video!" nope.... but more on that later)

The first week of September, I was pulled over in the Kroger parking lot by my work, finishing up my makeup, having some quiet time before work, and decided to do a vlog update on Facebook. I was talking about my journey through the grief of losing my granny, joining a small group, volunteering to serve in the nursery at church--- I looked over, and noticed a family. Living in their car, a mother and daughters. It broke my heart.

I couldn't stop thinking about them, so the next time I saw them I handed mom a note just saying that I was praying for her- and listed our church's contact info.

The next time I saw them, I gave her another little note, a devotional, and a Kroger gift card.

Then, we started talking.

Her and her four daughters, ages ranging from 12 years old to 18 months, have been living in a four door sedan- tiny. Her husband decided he did not want to be married anymore. She couldn't afford daycare, had to leave her job, things spiraled and they ended up living in their car. After speaking with my husband, I knew I wanted to do something but I wasn't sure what.

I reached out to my pastor and he began helping me look in to long term shelter options.

I started vlogging more and more about it on Facebook. Before I knew it people jumped in to action: people giving gift cards, diapers, wipes. Offering to help with her car note, her phone bill.

Another friend opened up her home to this family! They have been staying there since last week in a fully furnished basement. I'm so thankful they are off the streets!

We're working hard to get them where they need to be, and are very very close.

Mom is doing everything she can to get back on her feet, she is such a strong woman- she clearly adores her children and is putting those little girls first for sure. I'm so proud of her and admire her so much!

I have gotten some negativity, which honestly...stinks.

' how do you expect to get a homeless woman with four kids a job?'

'why don't you try to help someone in our own community?'

'don't you think she owes you an explanation as to how she ended up here?'

I've also had some quote scripture to me (specifically Matthew 6: 1-4) : which, let me be clear: I am not looking for praise, or credit. I am not showing off, or bragging.

ya'll. I vlog- its what I do. I vlog about everything, I blog about everything. And if it wasn't for me putting this out on social media, NONE OF THIS WOULD'VE happened. The out pour of love and support from people has been incredible. Things are falling in to place so smoothly and quickly it is mind blowing.
This is not because of me. This is GOD. All glory to God ya'll. This is such a God thing and I truly believe that.

I could've not noticed them. I could've noticed them and chosen to walk right by with out giving it another thought. I truly believe God opened up my eyes to see them, and planted them in my heart moving me to try and help however I could. I have said, and will say again- I saw myself in that mother. Loving her kids, doing whatever she could for them. Provide for them and protect them, keep them in school. I pray if I were ever to be in her shoes, someone would see me and help me. I have never done anything like this before in my life, but I'm following my heart and my gut. I have been praying all day every day about this family, this situation, asking God for guidance and the right path to take. I believe in my heart I'm on the right path.

I was drowning in my grief over losing my granny. I was begging and pleading with God to fill me with peace. Bring back my joy, hope, and purpose. He listened.
A friend wrote to me over the weekend:
" My dear Kelly, God has helped you focus on helping others instead of drowning in your own grief. While He is still allowing you to heal from the loss of your grandmother, He is leading you and helping you discover ways to help others and bring good people together to help this family of five. You are God's child and you are working for the benefit of others, always remember when we focus on others, God helps us heal from our heartbreaks by lighting the way for us to focus and help others. God heard your cries and He carried you through these times. You will always have days where He will be there for you. But He is lighting the way for you to grow in His spirit and finding your gift from Him. Always keep God first in everything!"

if you know my heart at all, if you know me at all-- you know my posting is not bragging, seeking attention, or praise. I'm following my heart, trying to help this family. It is as simple as that. Over the last year I've really been striving to live my life as a Christian, for the first time in my life.

Regardless of anything hurtful, judging, or negative. I do not regret for one second starting all of this. Not long ago someone helped me in a huge way, I swore to them when I could I would pay it forward. I was talking with Mom last week and she promised to re pay me, I told her she owed me nothing. I told her if and when God ever presented an opportunity to her to help someone, show them love, to simply pay it forward.

  This family is amazing! Mom has secured a job, we're figuring out daycare, we're getting them some clothes and things they need- we're getting them back on their feet! I'm so proud of them, and I am incredibly proud and honored to call all of you have helped my friends. Mind blowing, best way to describe it! Mom and daughters came to our church Sunday and I was so thrilled! My heart is full and my joy has returned. Thankful to call them my friends!