I sit here before the world, a very fickle person. Somehow I thought that I would be able to quit writing to and about Kaitlyn and it would help me get my mind off of her for one second of the day at least. I’m wrong. It’s just not in me to stop. Throughout each day I experience something that needs to be said and I’m not satisfied writing it privately. I want it here for Kaitlyn to see. I know that sounds silly. But I feel torn about that as well, because along with saying what a wonderful person she was, I also write about what torment I’m in and I don’t want her to see it. But I must process this and it’s all I know to do.
So here I go with another post, but it’s going to be a rambling one I’m afraid, for that is how my thought process is today.
When Kaitlyn died, I was in shock. Of course I cried profusely and was dumbfounded and in disbelief and all that goes along with losing someone you thought would conquer the world, but yet I was still in shock. Shock is wearing off and I am left with the heart wrenching knowledge that she’s not coming back. Little things hurt 100 times more than they did, and they already hurt beyond endurance. For instance, did you know that I’ve not cleaned my house well since before she died? Every week I would plan a day that I would do it and when that day came, I just could not do it. I was able to start today but not in the normal way. I usually start first thing in the morning, but today I started at 12:30. I usually do things in the exact same order every time I clean, but I didn’t today. Because my world is no longer in order, I can no longer do anything in order. I’m waiting for my floor to dry from mopping as I type this and it’s usually the last thing I do.
I went to the garage to get my Swiffer Mop and was brought to gut wrenching sobs when I realized hers was out there too and I didn’t know which was hers and which was mine. All I knew is that its owner will no longer need it and it brought me to my knees. I was emptying the trash in the kitchen and saw at the top of the trash a Victoria’s Secret catalog with Kaitlyn’s name on it. We had all Kaitlyn’s mail forwarded to us and with each piece of mail I get that was to go to her, another piece of my heart falls away into the pits of hell. Allyn had thrown it away before I had a chance to see it. Victoria’s Secret was one of the last places me and Kaitlyn shopped.
As I kneeled before my bookcase in the den, contemplating doing the dusting (I’ve yet to do it), I gazed upon the picture I have of Kaitlyn there. It’s one that she had done in high school and is a very close up picture of her face. She was not smiling and had a very serious contemplative look on her face. I wondered of the complexities of her brilliant mind and what she could have been thinking at that moment.
Then I think about doing the vacuuming and I realize Kaitlyn never got to use the new vacuum cleaner that we had bought her before she went back to her apartment this last time. It was still in a box in her car when she died. Another piece of my heart falls into the depths.
I want someone to blame, something to blame. I want to blame myself for not seeing what she was going through. I want to blame myself for not calling that week. I want to blame some past heartache in her life that drove her to such things. I want to blame it on the unimaginable stress she was under going to medical school but yet she said she thrived on. But the fact is, everyone that was close to her blames themselves in some way. They should have called her that night. They should have seen her sooner. They should have had that talk with her that could have saved her from the edge. They should have been more available to her. They should have seen how depressed she was. But the fact is, it’s no one’s fault. And we all blame ourselves. But where does the blame lie? None of it even makes sense that it could have possibly happened at all, there’s no blame to be found.
Kaitlyn was a very complex, beautiful, talented person. In her note she said she had always been depressed. But could that just be that she was so depressed the day she did this thing that it only felt like she was depressed all her life? I saw happiness and creativity in Kaitlyn, something that a severely depressed person could not possibly display. I just don’t know.
I thought that I wouldn’t have to worry about a long life of misery of missing my daughter due to the death by her own hand. My beautiful, wonderful, talented, sweet daughter. I felt sure that the Lord would take me on in some natural fashion due to my severely broken heart. But that has not happened and I’m left with a life that I have to learn to live with, a world made so dim by her loss. I didn’t want to feel better; I didn’t want to try, I was too miserable to even want to try to live any kind of normal life. I absolutely can’t bear to think that I’m living in a world without this beautiful creature in it. But I’m going to try. I don’t like it, but what choice do I have but to try?
And to Kaitlyn, forgive me that I can’t stop writing about you. I mean you no disrespect and I want you to live on in our memories in a respectful way, not the face of suicide. Because your life was not the life of a suicide prone person, but a beautiful life and gifts of goodness that you gave to everyone around you. But forgive me that I can’t stop yet. I still can’t let you go.