Today marks the eight year anniversary of my little cousin Jonah taking his life. I miss him terribly, he was an amazing person who left this world way too young. It's tragic, he would have made a huge difference in this world if he was able to survive the horrible childhood and our stupid abusive family. That's what killed him... my stupid, abusive, narcissistic, bullshit family and their selfishness. I loved him, my son loved him and they deserved to grow up together. Not this...
Even through all the crying and the grief, I was still able to do a bit today. I wrote, did school with Henry, cooked a bit... I feel drained today. I hate that I feel so sad, I know that's not what Jonah would want. He wouldn't want me to be devastated every time I think about him, or look at his photo or watch a video of us at one of the kid's birthday parties.
But I can't help but feel robbed and feel like my son and my nieces and nephew have been robbed of having such a positive male influence in their lives. We don't have much of those in this family.
Tomorrow is a new day and I hopefully will feel good and will have a productive day that makes me feel a little better. Cuz today was not it.
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