11 years

It was only with the strength of God that I got through this last 4,013 days without hearing your laugh or asking what’s for dinner. I can’t stand thinking about missing out tonight wanting to see your ‘eating swell’ post on social media. I want to see you and your brother laughing, you giving him advice on life, you just…. Living!!!

I know God doesn’t make mistakes. I know your life was for a reason and truth be told I know that you brought SO MUCH Love into my life. You wasn’t an easy child to raise but you was honest and considerate and soooo sensitive. You was there for me during my depression. You rubbed my feet, sat with me when you knew I just didn’t want to be alone.

My pain starts knowing you was alone when they were hurting you for no reason. Why did they beat on my baby? Kick and punch and kick and punch and…. Stab….. Why?

Noone helped. Everyone watched. Noone helpedddd you. Why? I’ll forever regret not being there. I would of helped. I would of kicked back. Not my baby!! I don’t play when it comes to my boys!!!!!!

10 Years

Why?

I’m figuring that I should be above this question, right? I’m saved, I have Christ in my life, I’m hopelessly in love and yet I’m unfulfilled with the loss of my child. Let me back up, loss. What the hell is that? I didn’t lose him. He didn’t drop out of my bag at the bus stop. I surely can’t replace him, so that word is so stupid!

I’m a little angry today. Tired of crying and then my eyes burn, still having to read my work on the computer and then I’m mad at myself. So last night, I played my gospel music loud. I talked to God while searching for new music on YouTube on the tv. Guess what came up?? Cooley High. No kidding! That was Teddy’s FAVORITE movie. That made me SMILE! I knew he did that for me. He is such a wonderful kid.

Kid…. Wow, he would be 30 on his next birthday, but he’s forever 19 to me, my baby. I can’t see him grow up in my mind, only his spirit get stronger. He’s able to communicate with me so easily, when I need him. What stinks is, I need to smell him, hear him say something funny and then know he’s coming back to me physically. Not MY son! Alllll that I’ve been through with my biological mom and step mom and father, failed marriages etc I should not have to bear This pain. I’ve had my share. I shouldn’t have to deal with anything else.

Better yet, how do I start vulnerable to life and allow myself to be happy knowing that catastrophe can come again at any moment? Live in the moment my therapist says. I’m so afraid to do that. My PTSD won’t allow it. Why should I? I’m tired of standing in the face of adversity. I’m just freaking tired, point blank!!

But God! He’s the only reason why I’m still standing!! 🌹

Looking into my heart

It’s time! I opened my eyes, took a breath and started to think. If only I’d stayed asleep, this wouldn’t keep happening!!

Now the thoughts come to, automatically thinking about my children and if they are safe and accounted for. The youngest one, yep I remember seeing him before I went to bed. My oldest one….. Jesus… My oldest…….. Where is my baby???

He just died, again!!!!! You don’t understand, this now is the 3,645th time that I’ve gone through this. My heart hurts so much. My mind goes to them hurting my baby. I can only imagine him being in so much pain, being so afraid. Did he call out my name? Why didn’t I hear him? Why didn’t I feel the life leaving his body? They said, he said he was cold. Oh God, my baby boy. My baby boy.

You’ve left me here in this place of despair. I cry so much, my eyes are often swollen. I cry out to the Lord because I know if it had not been for him I would of taken my own life. I miss your voice, I miss your smile. I miss your hugs and your rubbing my feet. I miss your excitement over my food. I even miss your anger because you come back and apologize. I always accept it. You’re my baby.

I Miss you soooo very much.

Until we meet again and I have re-live this horror all over again and again and again. I’m tired………….

Another holiday 2021

I got through

Today, I’m preparing mentally to go into another new year without you. I hate that!! I hate feeling like I’m leaving you further and further behind. Yes I know you’re constantly with me on the spirit blah blah blah

I know this, I feel this is you’re here….but you’re not here!!!

This is my place where I don’t have to be ‘strong’. I don’t want to always have to say I’m fine or be here for someone else. I’m still hurting. Bottom line.

Always my babies!

FB memories

Came across this FB memory this morning from March 2013. It took me 3 long years and 26 for cases to get justice for you even though they were caught the next day. I never stopped fighting then and I’ll never stop representing you now! You’re MY son and nothing will deter my plans and dreams for you and your brother and daughter. Please continue to hold and comfort me, I miss you daily. I cry for you, I wish to God you was here with me. I love you, Teddy.

“It doesn’t take much to trigger me Teddy. 6 months ago tonight, we was laughing and joking here at the house while I prepared your dinner. You and J was rough housing on the bed while talking about going to the Mets game the next day. He was so excited. You and I talked for hours about life, the baby and importantly your business plans for the next day that would require you to miss school. All of this seems like yesterday. 6 months ago tonight, was our last conversation. The last meal I would fix for you. The last time you would leave my home. Thankfully I got a chance to say I love you one more time when you came to my job on the 20th of September. Now, here it is, 6 months since you’ve been physically gone from me, my son. Healing isn’t coming in time but it’s allowing me to thank God everyday for having you in my life. I miss you so much Teddy. 6 Months gone at 5:39pm tomorrow, but forever in my heart and thoughts. I wish I was able to go back to that night 6 months ago and laugh and hold you again. Justice for you, son, I wont stop.” (March 2013)

Are you here?

2020…

Wow. 2012 seems like centuries ago instead of 7 years. Well, it’ll be 8 in September. I don’t want to think that far. I’m still hurting at this point in time. I’m so tired of laughing and then it getting caught in my throat bc I think of you. I KNOW you are standing next to me cheering me on with each positive thing that’s happening. I so feel you, Teddy but what hurts so bad is YOU aren’t having these new memories. You aren’t in up to date pictures. I have to close my eyes and imagine your goatee.

https://www.nydailynews.com/news/crime/mother-slain-nyc-students-plea-article-1.1200973

So, life is just going to go on like you’re not missing from it? I’m so mad!! I think about that person in prison. Does he see your face when he closes his eyes? Is he remorseful now, being that he was an A-hole at sentencing and refused to say sorry. Is he just getting harder, ready to destroy another family? Will he try to hurt us when he gets out thinking we’re responsible for his downfall? Jesus, how could I NOT have all of these crazy thoughts? Do ya’ll know what I’ve been through? I not only lost my son to a violent murder, but my step mother to murder. A white man decided that my black step mother wasn’t worthy of living or simply shopping at the grocery store.

https://www.wave3.com/2019/10/24/thursday-marks-one-year-since-people-were-shot-dead-kroger/

So, these anxiety pills that I take 3 times a day along with my depression ones in the morning and evening are warranted.

I’m not inviting you to a pity party. Just giving references as to why I have that big smile in my picture and the sadness behind my eyes. Oh I’ve learned how to say, I’m alright and inside be breaking down. I’ve learned how to cry in public, catching the tear at the end of my eye before it falls. I call myself a master Griever. 💖

So it’s 11:15 on the last day of 2019. I’m grateful for my youngest son beginning college and making better choices in life. I’m grateful to preparing for my graduation this May before I embark on my next degree. I’m grateful that God loves me even though I mess up each and every day.

I’m grateful for ya’ll who keep coming back and spending time with me here. I’ll talk to you next year. Be safe out there. Be Blessed… 💖

I want to smile, inside

My mind is full, literally. As I’m preparing for my finals next week I’m trying to tap into my memory and retrieve information all the way back to August. Ha. That’s funny right? I’m almost 50 years old. We’re proud of ourselves remembering to take meat out for dinner, to thaw. I’m working it out however, but it’s opening doors I’m not ready for emotionally. Allow me to explain.

I purposely suppress certain feelings in order to cope. The biggest being Teddy no longer being here. It may sound strange being that I talk about him all the time. People don’t understand what happens in my mind. I’m able to tell someone, yes he was murdered and my life now is propelled by living out his legacy. What they don’t know is when the conversation is over, Teddy goes back to ‘school’ in my head. He’s out doing something productive, unable to call but I’ll hear from him soon. Then when I get encounters of him being thoughts from him, images in my mind and confirmations of sorts then it held me until the next time. I can tell you seriously in my mind, I spoke to Teddy the other day. He made me smile while whispering in my ear. 💖

Then comes the times like these when I have to stop and pull up memories. It does something to me a little difficult to explain. It makes things real to me almost like a movie. Think of the movie, the Sixth Sense. I feel like I’m reliving this movie over and over not realizing that this whole time, my son is dead.

My chest gets really tight, I begin to hyperventilate and my whole world swirls. How did this happen? Well, I’m trying to think of innocent school work from 4 mints ago. It triggers memories from say, 4 years ago. I was really in a bad space then. My PTSD and anxiety was trying to be managed for me to be able to function in society. Why? Because they killed my son. They all stood around and watched those boys punch my son and kick him to the ground and surround him while 1 took out a knife and stabbed him. These hundreds of kids stood and watched, many recorded with they phones. It was entertaining to them. They watched him stand and take the knife out of his own side not knowing it had already opened his heart. He walked several feet before falling. He told his girlfriend he was cold….He was even able to tell the paramedics his name. He was amazing . He survived 3 hours in surgery. He waited for me to get there and (in my mind) watched me walk up and down the corridor. They say as your soul begins to leave your body , you’re able to see all around you . Jesus, I’m sorry. I’ve gone through this in past posts. I’m having a moment. I don’t like these feeling . I don’t like these tears falling down the side of my face, I can hardly see while writing this . I try so hard not to go down street, literally . I’m on 55th Street watching my baby lay on the side of the road. It hurts so bad . His heart, my heart they’re both broken right now . I can’t reach him but I feel his fear and pain. It’s burning inside. I need to get away from here.  I’m tired. I’m so tired. All of this just to be able to remember my Pre Calc formulas, Jesus.

 

I’m sorry, I’m better now. I needed a minute to get myself together . I’m not even sure what the purpose was of this post . I just opened this and started writing . I need to get back to studying. I need to work harder on how to pull up certain memories only . Ughhh if only it was that easy. Until next time… Be Blessed.

A new day

So here we are, 10 days into the new year.  These days are moving so quickly these last few years yet emotionally I still feel stuck.  My therapist and psychiatrist say I’m doing much better, whatever the heck that means.  I can personally attest that I am more focused on Jalen now, my 14 year old son.  My only surviving son.  This will always be  my mindset.  My ‘better’ in my mind is compartmentalized.  Jalen=better  life=the same!  I still feel so guilty for being so stuck in my grief the first 3 years from 2012-2015, I feel like I wasn’t a good mom.  Sure I made sure his needs were met but emotionally I was absent during critical years of 10-13.  I feel like I’m playing catch up but by the grace of God, it is going well and I know he is so happy to have me back.

Now as far as working on Ena? I feel little progress has taken place.  I did partake in a year long coping skills class which gave viable information on dealing with crisis and being mindful of the  moment I’m in to get me through panic attacks, etc.  I still however have no desire to put myself in situations where I know those major attacks will take place, ie, taking the public transportation train by myself. My mind immediately prepares itself that something bad is going to happen.  I feel that someone will try to hurt me and noone will help me.  My faith in human kindness has severely dwindled and watching the news doesn’t help any.  People are more interested in videotaping tragic events now rather than helping someone.  I guess in a way I understand, they don’t want to jeopardize their own safety but we somehow along the way have lost human decency.  I’ve seen videos where people without a doubt could have helped an individual and didn’t.  Especially when an elderly person or a child is being attacked.  This hurts my hurt dearly.

At what point does it become more important for us grave likes and shares on facebook and instagram before someone’s safety?  I live in New York City.  I was born and raised here.  I would have said 4 years ago that I am a true New Yorker and I can hold my own.  After the murder of my son and seeing evil at it’s highest up close and personal I can no longer give this testament.  I walk the 2 blocks to my local stores and I’m always worried that someone is watching me, sizing me up to harm me.  I don’t like people walking behind me and I’ll stop and pretend I’m looking for something so they can pass.  I avoid groups of boys congregating because surely (in my mind), they are up to no good.  This is such a hard way to live life daily.  In my intellectual mind, I know this isn’t always true.  However my accelerated heartbeat once met in these instances doesn’t feel the same.  It’s not something that I am proud of.  I feel guilty because these same group of boys could include  my own son one day.  Of course I wouldn’t be afraid then because I know my son wouldn’t let anything happen to me but I wonder does someone look at him that way.  They may just be standing there laughing and my mind goes instinctively to the negative.  I once went to a pharmacy in my neighborhood and there were a group of laughing teens directly in front of the store.  There was a bus stop there where another group of boys got off.  They somehow knew one another and began yelling at one another.  I truthfully couldn’t tell you if it was playful banter or an argument ensuing.  I practically was run over by a car trying to get across the street against the light and quickly power walked home in case they were following me for any reason.

You have to understand, my 19 year old son was simply walking up the block from school.  These boys started an arguement with him which led to their jumping him and eventually one stabbing him.  This isn’t something that should happen and yet it did.  So how can I tell my emotions that it wont happen again to myself or to my  youngest son?  How am I supposed to reshift my mind now to believe that here is human decency living among me?  I try, truly I do, but it is a daily trial of mine.  Thankfully, I’m not around groups of boys often.  I have my son do  most of the shopping unless I really have to do it myself.  Am I doing myself a disservice?  I don’t think so.  I can only do what I’m able to do, one day at a time.  I don’t make excuses and I rarely take anyone else’s opinion into consideration.  My new day, everyday begins with God please let me have a sound mind today and let us not be hurt by anyone.  I thank God every night even when that day’s mindset wasn’t all that good.  At least I got through it.  This is MY life’s experience and I have to live it.  Thanks so much for hanging out with me today…..Until next time…..Be blessed.

 

Taking a breath

I don’t know why I even bother to read the newspaper or watch the news.  There has to be a diagnosis for this.  noseyitis or suckerforpunishmentitis.  The stories literally make me sick.  I mean, mentally sick!!!  They make me never want to leave my home b/c of the senseless violence that is just getting worse each and every God given day.  I’m already on alert from my own son’s murder trying to navigate to a place where I can at least coexist in this world.

So I come across this article about a bride that is going to be buried in her wedding dress, having died from a panic attack just a few days before.  Jesus, take the wheel.

The story said she was in the car with a friend when it happened.  I might as well had been sitting in the back seat.  I can feel her breath being unsteady.  I can see her gasping for air as if I was there the whole time.  How do I know?  I too suffer from panic attacks.  People still ask me why I isolate so much.  The attack will come from a simple trigger, to crying, to literally not being able to catch your breath. If I’m in public, it’s worse b/c you’re trying not to bring attention to yourself which makes it worse.  You lose logic, you’re in full emotional and physical despair.  It’s horrible.  Yet people keep asking, when will I get back to myself and start hanging out again.  They want the old Ena back. I want to be able to go through a range of emotions in one day and not break down from any of them.  It seems like I’m talking about mental illness a lot lately.  You know why?  I’m tired of not talking about it.  I’m tired of people acting as if I’m not trying hard enough or someone telling me my son is in a better place and would want me to live my life.  As if my daily desire is to be a mental whirlpool of ups and downs.  When people say think of the good memories to keep going.  Ok, let me tell you how they normally go.

My youngest is beginning HS in a few weeks.  I’m afraid he’ll get jumped and killed in front of his school like his brother was.  We’re normally excited about doing back to school shopping.  It’s like early Christmas getting whatever they wanted.  I think, What would Teddy want him to wear?  Teddy normally took him shopping, it was one of their Bro times together.  Now it’s just a chore.  I looked forward to becoming involved in school activities, a very involved parent.  Now, I talked to the all of the administrators not about their school events. I wanted to know about security protocol.  How far is the local precinct? Do those metal detectors in front really work and are they used all day long until every child exits the school?  You get my gist now?  My thoughts are not your thoughts.  So I try not to think!!!  As if that happens very long.

Panic attacks.  Panic disorder.  As many times as I’ve felt like I was reaching for my last breathe, I never knew that it was medically possible.  I guess something else, I didn’t need to be thinking about.  It’s not easy.  It’s not weakness.  It’s not fair.  But it’s life; my life and unfortunately this young lady who will never have her wedded bliss on this side of Heaven.  She’ll forever be with her family, but they will never be the same.

I’ll keep grasping for that next breath until it’s my time to depart.  Just another reminder world.  Just b/c you can’t see the injury, doesn’t mean it isn’t life threatening.  Mental illness is serious yet taken so trivially that we’d rather not talk about it then have someone tell us how to just get over it.  Just food for thought.  Here is the article.  http://nydn.us/2btCaun

Until next time.  Thanks for hanging out with me…..Blessings