Half A Year

I hate going to sleep knowing that the sun will rise for me tomorrow morning. Trying to breathe is Hell. Trying to live is Hell. Trying to accept is Hell. I understand that it's always been said that life isn't easy, but nobody ever said it was going to be this hard. This type of pain is one that's hard to explain because there are no words that explain the depth of being this heartbroken. It's not the feeling of going through what you consider a pain of going through a bad breakup, because trust me, even though I was younger, it felt like my world was over at the time. This is different, I guess you could say the same pain from a breakup surfaces in your body, but picture it on steroids. A breakup is the closest idea to bring upon people who have never experienced what it's like to know someone who you can no longer respond to you in words. Knowing the one person that you want breathing, doesn't even exist in this lifetime...and will no longer exist ever again.

I won't sugarcoat it. The best way I can describe this past half of a year to you is calling it Hell 0n Earth. When I think of Livi, there's nothing that brings a smile to my face. If you'd see me laugh about a memory of Livi, it's because it's laugh or cry. I say that because when you talk about a memory with Livi, you then realize that Livi as a person is now only a memory. Her whole 17 years of existence is all a memory because I can no longer make any more. She was suppose to grow old with me. We should have had at least 80 years worth of memories. Ones that we experienced together. Ones where we laughed together. Ones where we cried together. Ones where we were happy together. I was robbed with at least 60 years worth of memories. 60 years. 21,900 days. 525,600 hours. I'd tell you the seconds, but I can't even tell you what the Hell that means because there are so many. Now I'm only left with 60 years, 21,900 days, 525,600 hours of utter sadness, anger and disappointment. Nothing more, nothing less.

When I think of Livi, my body and mind are so numb, so in shock that I can't feel anything at all. Then the other times...the other times are the worst. The other times are when I feel everything at once. The pure heartbreak of knowing she no longer breathes. The pure disappointment of a soul taken way too soon. The pure anger of an innocent child being ripped out of this life without a choice. All of the negative emotions have taken such toll on my body. I've lost about 20 pounds by now. Down to the skin and bone. I hardly eat because of the horrible thought that never escapes my mind that Livi's body is rotting six feet under ground. I can't go to sleep without medicine because of how bad the anxiety is eating up my body. But the panic attacks...I have to say those are the worst, but at the same time I feed them majority of the time. I feel I need and deserve to feel every crucial emotion that comes with losing my sister forever. I honestly thought my only panic attack to this bad of an extent would be the one I had during our last moments with Livi in the hospital. Boy, was I wrong. I don't remember every part of it to be honest because I was in such shock. But what I do remember is Hell. We knew she was going in at about 5am in the morning. I was trying so hard to prepare myself for that moment, but at the same time I was trying to take in every last chance to be with my sister during her "last breaths." When the doctor came in, I panicked. I didn't know if I should cry or knock the doctor out herself. All I knew to do at that moment was to hold on so tight to my sister. I remember screaming, crying in aching pain, clutching her body and hugging her so tightly. Kissing her on every part of her face that I could. The only thing I remember telling Livi while I was bawling my eyes out was how much I loved her and that nobody else would ever take her spot of being my Maid of Honor on my wedding day. I don't even know why that was the thought that came to my mind...because at this point in my life I will no longer be getting married knowing she won't be standing right beside me. I kept telling her how much I loved her though. I would not let go of this girl. I was completely on top of her, holding her with everything that I had. I don't even remember who had to pull me off of her, but I do know whoever it was, I wanted to hit them but I didn't even have the strength in my body. I was paralyzed at this point. Drenched in sweat. Tears streaming down my face. Body uncontrollably shaking. They put me in a wheelchair. I couldn't move, let alone walk. They rolled me into a waiting room where the rest of my family was. Why the Hell were we in a waiting room? What the Hell were we waiting for? Livi wasn't walking out. So there I sat in that wheelchair. For hours. I remember someone brought me a wet cloth and placed it on my nonstop sweaty forehead. I was zoned out. I couldn't move and could hardly breathe. I was staring at a blank wall for what felt like forever. I couldn't even hear anything. I only remember my aunt coming up to me with a cup of water trying to pour it in my mouth herself because I couldn't move. I was shaking, I'm pretty sure half of the water ended up in my lap. After that, I must have fell asleep but I don't even know how. I don't even know who woke me up in the morning, but the next thing I knew was I was being rolled out of the hospital in the wheelchair. Without my sister.

So overall, if you really want to know what the past 6 months have been like, they've been nothing but excruciating torture. I couldn't even tell you how many panic attacks I've had since then. Way too many. I start to cry, then my body starts to shake as if I'm seizing. It could be 32 degrees in the room, but you'll still find me sweating. The pain in my chest tightens to the point, I feel like I'm having a heart attack. My body tenses up and flexes so much, that I have abs now and I've put basically a "Charlie Horse" in my calf because my body was so tensed up, it went into a ball. The screaming cries kill me, knowing they all link to my dead sister. Once the panic attack dies down, I'm always left with an intense headache. Sometimes, I purposely look at things or do things that try to feed my sadness and anger so I can feel it all. Sometimes, they just come upon themselves, whenever they please. There doesn't even have to be a trigger. It's just how my body reacts to all of the stress and traumatic scenes that I've witnessed. These images are burned into my brain and scarred onto my heart forever. If the ones I've seen aren't already bad, the ones I picture in my head can hurt just the same. I looked up how long it takes a dead body to rot. 24-72 hours after death, the internal organs decompose. Not that she even had too many left, as they were carved out of her body already without her knowing it. 3-5 days after death, her whole body started to bloat and the blood-containing foam that was left in her body began to gush out of her mouth and nose. 8-10 days after death, the body turned from green to red because the rest of her blood was decomposing and because of her organs in her abdomen containing gas. Several weeks after death, her nails and teeth fell out. 1 month after death, her body begun to turn into liquid. There's no peace in my mind knowing my sister is underground rotting away. I know she's not breathing and I know she can't feel it..but only because she's dead. Which that thought doesn't make it any less torture, but that's what I knew Livi as. Carrying that beautiful soul in that beautiful body. Now it's just rotting away and who knows what it looks like now. I want to hold her so incredibly bad, I've literally thought maybe I should just dig her up and open her casket. Then, I have to remind myself of what my eyes would see. I just can't see that right in front of my face, but I am always imagining how her body is changing.

What kind of life is this? Because I don't see the good in it anymore, and I refuse to believe I ever will. Honestly, besides Livi, and definitely now, I'm the most stubborn person I've ever met to this day. There will not be one soul that could convince me of anything else that I choose to believe. To be honest, trying to convince me of something else or trying to get me to do something or think of something, only creates me to do the exact opposite. Just because somebody said so. If that's not as stubborn as it gets, I've thought about taking my own life to prove people wrong who don't think I would actually do it. How stubborn is that? Me trying to prove a point by taking my own life. But then there's that thought in my head that's constantly telling me if I take my own life, that I won't ever see my sister. That's just something I can't afford to risk, even as much as I want to. I know that my stubbornness will be the leading cause of me living a miserable life...but if I can't live a happy life with Livi, I choose to live in a terrible one without her. There's no telling me otherwise and I don't want anyones help. Not that anyones "help" could even begin to change my perspective, but it's honestly a waste of peoples time and effort. When people ask me if they can do anything for me, I simply think to myself or sometimes say, "Can you bring back Livi?" The answer will always be no, just like how it will always be no if people offer if they can do anything to help. There is no helping me. You can't save someone who's already dead.