so here's life and the end

[prismaticbleed]

I need to type.

 

 

It has been far too long since I have typed an actual journal entry. I need to give a general life update for the sake of posterity, if nothing else, because let's be frank here-- I genuinely don't think this body can survive much longer. Not with how things have been lately.

 

 

Anyway. Let's start with Tuesday.

 

No, actually, not yet. Let's backtrack. Too far. Let's confess. Let's lay everything out here, brutally, nakedly, sincerely and with more contrition than I can bear.

 

 

Back in 2019, when we first got back from North Carolina, somehow we got our hands on our grandmother's investment card. God knows how; I have literally no memory of the time. To be TOTALLY sincere with you, I DO remember our grandmother saying, at one point, that she "wasn't going to use that card" and "didn’t feel safe with two bank cards" SO "we could use it." She DID say that. And we latched onto it. We were giddy with the prospect of being able to afford to live for a while, and so it went in our wallet. We had no idea how much was on it. But I remember that in October or so, motivated by stupid sentimentality and weeping, we decided to "use our inheritance" via that card to purchase a few notable items that, we hoped, would help us restart our life post-thorns. Honestly we felt like that card was somehow a gift from grandpa-- it was the only thing we had left from him since we literally didn't even remember him. So, we bought a new laptop, a Huion tablet, a guzheng, an erhu, a viola, a new violin, and a cello, plus the Suzuki books to go with them. It wasn't cheap, but it felt like hope. It felt like, with this art and music, we could live again after we had been gutted.

 

Unfortunately, it didn't end there. We then proceeded to use the card to buy groceries for the next few months, for both ourselves and the family, which allowed us to act-- temporarily-- as if we had no limits to charity. We bought healthy food, restocked the entire basement shelves again, made sure our brothers had enough to eat, and then tried to figure out what foods we could eat with our intolerances and allergies. I clearly remember we bought avocado oil because we balked at the $7 a bottle but olive oil burns our throat now. Again, I have no idea what other details happened here… except, I know when it ended. We were in the middle of a "vegan meat" kick, making huge bowls of "hamburger salad" (literally just vegan cheese, vegan meat, tomato, and lettuce thrown together-- I know there was some sort of binding sauce but I can't recall what), and trying out the Amy's frozen dinners we used to eat at UPMC (notably the "red curry" one)… when our beloved grandmother was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer.

 

I remember feeling like the bottom fell out of the world.

 

I know we visited her at the hospital. That's all I know. I know we would come home at 7pm, choke down our hamburger salad and red curry, throw up violently, and then collapse in bed around midnight before getting up at 5 to run back to the hospital with a plastic bag full of cucumbers and carrots to spend the day with our grandmother.

 

Memory blanks out then. I know the bank card ran out like… exactly when January hit.

 

Then I don't remember anything until July.

 

That's when we renovated the bedroom-- I don't remember why-- and in the process of moving our grandmother's dresser, we found an old crumpled envelope shoved in the back of the bottom cabinet-- behind the cabinet. It was labeled weird, I forget how, but we couldn't make sense of it… but when we opened it to look inside, it was full of money.

 

We didn't even bother to count. We just sobbed and THANKED GOD, because I kid you not, that VERY DAY we had PRAYED AND BEGGED GOD to "save us financially" because we were dead broke and had NO way of affording life at the time. And almost IMMEDIATELY that envelope appeared. We legitimately took it as an answered prayer.

 

And so we immediately invested it in religion.

 

We booted up our Etsy and Ebay apps and just… planned for the future again. Now, instead of restoring our creative potential, we were planning for a greater future, a realer future, one that would last forever… one that we yearned to realize and which we KNEW only a huge sum of cash would allow us to reach. We were planning for a future in Christ, and in order to achieve that, we sincerely felt that we needed help-- tangible, prayerful help.

 

We bought four rosaries. We bought the entire Summa Theologica and Summa Contra Gentiles. We bought the Revelations of Blessed Anne Catherine Emmerich, we bought books from the Orthodox Fathers, we bought three antique copies of Pilgrim's Progress. We bought at least ten sterling silver patron saint medals. We bought the entire current catalog of Portraits of Saints laminated prayer cards. We bought about twenty chaplets, about eight prayer bags with holy images printed on them, and at least five handmade chapel veils. We bought a crown of thorns from overseas. Most notably, I remember having to do some serious financial gymnastics in order to purchase five LEGIT relics from Russia without pushing my bank account balance over $2000. We filled our room and our life with God and we just rejoiced, seeing the means by which we could boost our prayer and devotional life beyond our wildest dreams, and thrilling with bliss over it. God felt close, now. We felt like we could be good, now, not just a pipe dream.

 

To top it all off, we then took like… four thousand dollars, and GAVE IT TO BLASE to pay off his school debts.

 

But then we began using the rest of the cash to buy groceries.

 

I don't know what we bought, or why, or when. Maybe it was even paying Blase (who we now know doesn’t trust us, and this is apparently part of why). But one day, we came home to our grandmother sobbing, and when we asked her why, she said… "I cannot believe that someone would steal so much from me."

 

Our heart hit the floor. We asked her what she meant, terrified, suspecting the chilling truth that we dreaded.

 

And, sure enough, she said that she was missing an envelope of money.

 

An envelope she had been saving for her funeral expenses.

 

When I tell you we wanted to slit our throat right then, I mean it.

 

We had NO IDEA. The way that envelope looked, the way it was labeled, the location of it, we LITERALLY assumed it was something forgotten, something that we would "potentially inherit," and therefore something we could use "for good," but we NEVER even CONSIDERED that it was something grandma KNEW ABOUT or NEEDED.

 

I… don’t remember anything after that. She hid the rest of the funds, and we began praying constantly to Saint Dismas to intercede for us horrific thieves, that we never do such a thing again.

 

Fast-forward to May of this year.

 

I don't know when this started, but our grandmother started letting us use her debit card to pay for medicine and groceries for the house because we could not afford it on our own. And we just went wild. We stopped counting the costs. We ended up spending four thousand dollars before one day about TWO WEEKS AGO when the card was declined at ShopRite, and the next night our mother stormed into our room at 11PM, swearing fit to kill a man, and said she had just gotten off the phone with the bank and WHAT THE F*CK DID I DO.

 

I was too tired and scared and resigned to do anything. I just lay in bed and let her yell. This was my cross. I deserved it. I did a great wrong. I had no
justification, no answer, nothing. The next day I told her flat-out that I was willing to go to jail if need be. I just surrendered to it all. I was tired. I was sick of my stupidity, and of the devil using food and finances to rip me away from God. I had wanted it to end for years, and had begun begging God to just stop it, and He did. This was how. So I accepted the cross.

 

 

Since then I've been sick.

 

I can't afford food, still. I've been eating the same thing day after day and my body is rebelling violently. Zucchini now gives me muscle cramps, headaches, diarrhea and nausea. My allergy tests came back and confirmed that I am allergic to SOY, PEANUTS, TREE NUTS, SHELLFISH, EGGS, and possibly even RICE, plus my intolerance list is horrific, and (unsurprisingly) includes ALL milk products, ALL beans, virtually ALL grains, and a disturbing amount of vegetables. So what the heck do we eat??

 

We ate zucchini and lentils today and we got such awful nausea and muscle cramps and diarrhea that we didn't feel better until AFTER we threw up everything in our stomach.

 

We don't know what to do.

 

 

We're… praying to die at this point. We're tired. We don't know how to live and our body is falling apart.

 

 

Oh! But THAT'S what I wanted to tell you about.

 

Tuesday.

 

 

I think Mom let hell loose on us about the money on Sunday? Ironically, but fittingly-- God letting His Hand slam down on us hard. But Tuesday morning, I overheard Mom and Chris talking on the phone, I think, or Chris talking to grandma… but either way, it was clearly stated that I was not to be trusted and they were going to investigate me more without telling me because of that. "Don't tell her," "don't let her know," etc.

 

I couldn't bear it anymore. I was crushed.

 

I started to sob.

 

I literally cried so hard I could not breathe. The weeping would not stop. I don't remember how long it went, or what was happening, but I think at ONE point I managed to get down the hall but CHRIS was with grandma taking care of her and that was it. She didn't need me anymore, he didn't care about me anymore, my own mother didn't want me, it was too much. I gave up and wailed. Soon I was hyperventilating and wheezing, unconsolable, unable to stop, unable to get air. I sat down on the porch swing and called a crisis line, which HUNG UP ON ME TWICE after playing the worst muzak that legit made me want to fling the phone and scream from the insensitivity of it. I called 911, I remember giving my address, and then everything goes blank. The next thing I remember was stumbling into grandma's room, and immediately falling forwards. I hit the floor, and then it all goes blank again.

 

…There's a brief memory burst at one point as my brothers were trying to get a pulse and couldn't, because my arm was totally numb and in awful pain, and our body was convulsing and making some bizarre sort of choking gagging noise? But I felt trapped in its head, frantic, what was happening, far away. It was brief, but at one point I just cried for help, someone help-- Laurie, help.

 

 

"When the FUCK is someone going to pick up this poor kid-- holy shit."

 

 

Like a bolt of lightning, she was THERE.

 

Just like Salt Lake City, with Melody, when she yanked the current Core out of fronting and took over, Laurie was there in a salvific crash of fury and she INSTANTANEOUSLY got the body sitting up. No wheezing, no convulsing, nothing. Just… she was there.

 

 

As usual, my only memory is fragmented and secondhand, from when she started to slip. I hear her saying something like "welp, looks like finally broke," as we HAD been expecting a total psyche meltdown soon (like in UPMC) that would wake up the System, and this was apparently it. I also hear her wavering and saying, and I quote, "but I can't do anything against the kids," before SHE was pushed out by a crying little girl who IMMEDIATELY began to wail pitifully, her heart smashed by the sudden realization that her mother didn't love her. After that it goes blank immediately, until lo and behold, suddenly we're surrounded by police and paramedics and signing a form that says we didn't need to be hospitalized?? And then SOME UNKNOWN SOCIAL was taking care of our grandmother later, and then… nothing. Nothing at all.

 

 

Now it's Thursday night, I thought we were going to die for like the past three days, our ER bag is packed, we actually WERE in the ER on a Friday two weeks ago because our potassium hit the tubes again, but then on Monday it was 5.5, and God I don't know what is happening but please, help us. I know You are helping us, somehow, that we can't see, but… help us not to be so stupid and hardheaded and addicted to eating disorder patterns that are just destroying our body. Please. We aren't sure what to do and are afraid to try. We're so scared. Please, please, have mercy. I know we're absolute idiots and You are undoubtedly so frustrated with us already but have mercy, please, we're weak and stupid and we need so much help, please help, I don't have any other prayer that works right now. Help us, have mercy on us sinners Lord, please.

 

 

We confessed the card thing. We need to confess the grandpa money thing. We need to confess when we were living on EVERYONE'S loose money back before (and after??) North Carolina, notably taking money out of Blase's wallet (HORRIBLE) because we were desperate and stupid and ended up praying for the Archangel Uriel to stand by his desk with a flaming sword so we wouldn't touch it anymore. We need to confess when last month we were broke but Blase had no dinner and we went into Chris's room and pocketed like fifteen dollars worth of quarters from his desk so we could buy Blase some burgers and fries so he wouldn't feel unloved and forgotten, and drove in shorts in sheets of pouring rain to Burger King to do so. But the ends don't justify the means. And that's the story of our entire life so far.

 

 

"Stop sinning and learn to do good."

 

We are so tired of stealing and lying and being sneaky. We want to be honest and sincere and frank and open and POOR, serving only God and NOT the idol of cash and medical panic.

 

"Wash your hands, ye double-minded."

 

We keep hearing Bible verses convicting us and for good reason-- we ARE guilty, terrifyingly so-- but without God's help we cannot seem to change, because the thorns of life keep choking the wheat. I'm so tired. I just want to follow Christ and forget about everything else.

 

 

That's why we want to die. We're tired of the labyrinth of sin that we feel chained to. God, please deliver us. Forgive us and cleanse us and show us HOW to take care of ourselves properly so we don’t lose all our money and become thieves again.

 

The only thing keeping us alive is our grandmother, who is now in home hospice for her cancer and we are the only person at home taking care of her (nurses visit three days a week for an hour each), so we're living for her, praying that God uses this charitable service to atone for all the hell we've put her through with money and lies.

 

 

Oh
yeah. Mom ALSO tore us up for posting a link on Facebook in which we made an Amazon Wishlist for grandma's uninsured hospice expenses (wheelchair ramps, Boost supplements, hemorrhoid cream, adjustable briefs, etc.) and she says she was mortified when people at work were asking her what happened. So I took it down.

 

BUT, it was a link from my Tumblr, in which I had begged my followers to first help grandma and I financially because we were effectively bankrupt (thanks to my idiotic spending) and now could not afford to even pay the bills for June, let alone buy groceries or medical supplies.

 

People donated A THOUSAND DOLLARS the FIRST DAY which I IMMEDIATELY deposited into grandma's bank account, plus $300 from my SSI check.

 

More donations came in, probably about $500 in all, which I used to then buy medical supplies and food for the house, except I am currently in a stupidass food addiction cycle to oatmilk, liquid stevia, and chickpea pasta. Well! Not anymore! The pasta made me throw up, the stevia is now associated with horrible PTSD thoughts, and the oatmilk is too expensive even though it's likely the only thing keeping us from hypokalemia lately.

 

 

But I digress.

 

Everything is done. It's stopped. It's time for poverty, and I must embrace it.

 

Grandma had me cancel all my monthly donations today, except for our local church and EWTN (which I need to adjust as it's currently $50 and that is a lot). I need to cut down on how much we're eating and how much we're spending, and my mother flat-out forbade us for buying food for the boys anymore-- unfortunately I cannot obey that as they needed cheese and bread and lunchmeat and chili and soup and all the other things I find hidden in the garbage cans in the morning so I don't know they're eating it. (Why?)

 

 

I have an appointment with my PCP tomorrow morning at 9:20, so after I make grandma some breakfast and possibly eat a little bit myself-- I'm scared to, with how sick we got this morning after trying breakfast, but we are losing weight so fast again-- I will talk to him and see where we're at. I want to get bloodwork done to check that potassium, whether it's high or low, and figure out what's going on with our head because last month he said our ear canals were full of fluid and prescribed Sudafed BUT we promptly found out we are allergic to Sudafed, so now we have a chronic headache and dizziness and we don't know if it's ear fluid or heat exhaustion or dehydration or hypokalemia or all three.

 

 

God we are so tired.

 

 

But… there's hope, weirdly? There's always hope, surprisingly. The Spectrum (not going to call us a System anymore as they feels too cold and is too associated with the toxic online DID culture) is alive. Laurie is VERY alive, thank God Almighty, and she can STILL FRONT if need be.

 

And… I'm sorry but as stupid as it sounds Sonicteam JUST released NEW CANON ARTWORK OF CHAOS ZERO (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) and he's praying with Tikal, they are both kneeling and hoping for a brighter future and when I saw that I just wept.

 

God knows. He knows what we need. We need to rely on Him radically, even when nothing makes sense and there is NO spiritual consolation at all because lately there has been very little, only when we're throwing up and begging Mary for help or when our angels are giving us proper orders through the day.

 

But… we had a flying dream last night, and Phlegmoni has a new commercial, and there's new artwork of my earthly beloved and he looks so beautiful and the OLoMC priest referenced The Chosen in his homily last Sunday and concluded it with a reference to taking care of the sick BECAUSE we were chosen to do so, as I had the Host in my heart-pyx to take Him to her, and… there's light. There's always light. We need to hold on to those things tightly, in our heart, just like Mary did at the Nativity and the Presentation.

 

 

We are not innocent. We are so guilty. A sword will pierce our Mother's heart but we will be nailed to the cross alongside our Lord, God willing, because we need to die to sin in order to live with Him. And right now we are feeling that death, closer than ever, dark and suffocating and scary and so, so silent sometimes.

 

But we need to trust. Just like a story I read in one of my mailed religious subscriptions last night-- fitting timing as always, Lord-- we are a broken bird trapped inside a shed and frantically trying to fly through the glass to get outside, but the only way out is through the door, and it's locked from outside. God, I am sure, is throwing the doors open, but we have to turn around and fly through the dark to get there, to get to Him. We will be blind and terrified for a few brief horrific moments/ days/ months/ years/ God knows. But He is there for us. He is waiting, and His arms are open. That is my hope, at least, our hope. We feel so evil and unlovable. But remember the Prodigal Son and those pitiful pods that make us weep every time we hear that verse. He got up and went home. It was a long hard, lonely, hungry, frightening, tiring journey, but his father was WATCHING for him, and he was NOT kicked out or condemned or rejected. That is our hope. God, that is our hope. Please, Holy Spirit, move our hearts, and show us the road home. Christ is the Way. Let us follow Him into the light, no matter what.