Sick Blogging

I have a fucking cold. Fuck this. Just fuck all of it. I feel like shit.

I also feel crappy because today marks the one year anniversary of Wyndi's death. Wyndi, as I'm sure none of you are aware, is Dylan's mother. For reference, Dylan is my brother from another mother, but seriously. Anyway, Wyndi was a lovely woman. I hate using past tense verbs for her, because I forget sometimes that she's gone and I like to believe that, when I remember that she's lying in the dirt in a graveyard, she's still with all of us here on earth, just not bodily. But I guess it'll be easier for everyone if I use past tense in regard to her. I find it important, however, to just say that I think she's still here.

Wyndi was an awesome person. The first impression I had of her was not a positive one, but I was helping her son move out, so I see why she was angry at me. Luckily that didn't last long, and we grew to be friends. She was hilarious, and after spending a few days with her, I learned where Dylan got his sense of humor. She always made me laugh when I was having a crappy day.

Though she was funny, she was also serious when needed, and uncompromisingly, captivatingly kind to me. When my grandmother died, she set up a place for me to record a song for her funeral. That simple act meant more to me than I ever expressed to her, or anyone really. She always did stuff like that, and she was genuinely interested in what I was doing up at college. There are so many things I want to say, but I don't have enough grace to express it the way it needs to be expressed. Let's just say that Wyndi was truly one of a kind, will always be missed, and can never be replaced.

Anyway...

So I'm sick and today is the one year anniversary of Wyndi's death and I don't know how to help Dylan through it or how to help myself through it, quite frankly. (Side note: my hamster just walked all over my keyboard, but was too light to write anything.) After Wyndi, I got super depressed and quit eating or hanging out with anyone, generally. It wasn't a fun time for anyone, and all my plans for the year got kinda fucked when Dylan stayed at home instead of returning to Graceland. He had to look after Kody, his little brother, and I get it. I don't hate or condemn him because of his decision. But all my plans got fucked, and I had to reconstruct my year's expectations quickly, along with cope with my recent loss. The road was long and hard and I backpedaled a few times before I got to where I am now.

I won't lie and say I think of Wyndi all the time, when a breeze comes across my face or I'm walking alone down a country road, or some other Hollywood version of dealing with a loss. I don't think of her often. But sometimes I do, and it doesn't hurt anymore. Well, not as much. I miss her, but I'll miss her forever. I wish she was here, but I'll never stop that, nor will I want to. I'm better, but Dylan's not, and I don't know how to help. I find that writing helps me. I don't do it often enough, obviously. I mean, this blog hasn't been updated in at least a month. But it's here when I need to let off steam or waste an hour or any other use this blog has for me. Maybe Dylan's outlet can be spending time with Kody. That, or Tumblr. He loves Tumblr, man.

Anyway, I guess the point of this blog post was to make me feel better, and it has accomplished its purpose. I will now go read some slash. For those of you who don't know what that is, pray you never get sucked into it. It's seriously addicting stuff.

Ta, loves.