I’m still alive. I have just been battling lately and didn’t feel like spewing my anxiety ridden crap here.

Imina (that is ‘I am in a’ for those of that don’t speak ‘Kristinese’) Imina spiral right now.  I have been trying to get stuff organized and in the process, stumbling across a lot of the life I had before this one.  I found about 16 journals dating all the way back into the early 80’s.  I made the mistake of reading through some of them and I realized that this has been a problem ALL my life, not just the last few years.   I’m happy, but Iminaspiral.  Doctor’s appointment is already set for 4 pm tomorrow.

My aunt is in the hospital. My sister called me today to tell me that my brother went in and said goodbye to her.  My brother is a ‘no-shit-typa-guy’ and he calls em as he sees em.  When my grandma went into the hospital my mom said, ‘ohhhh, she’ll be fine…just fainted.’  My brother called me from the hospital and told me to get my ass home because my grandma was going to die.  Grandma died less than 48 hours later.  I know this is the last trip to the hospital my aunt will make now.
I opted not to go see her. It sounds so cruel to write those words, but I can’t see her like that.  I want to remember her the way she was when I was a kid.  I don’t want to see her with all that world has done to her on her face.  She survived a lot of things that most people will hopefully never have to see.

I’m worried about my mom.  She is watching all of her friends die around her.  It makes me scared because I don’t want her to think that is even an option for her.  My mother will live forever.  She has to. I need to know she’s there and I need to know my sister is there…for me. I can’t do this all by myself.

I don’t want my aunt to die.