Documentation

I am writing this a few hours before omigod I almost wrote "my brother goes to trial," but my brother is dead and today the judge will decide when the trial is, unless the defense does some other crazy thing. So I am documenting what it is to be like while one goes through such a surreal moment and yes tears are rivuleting down my cheeks and yes I am a shitty mother and I took a klonopin to try to calm down. There is no rule book for someone murdering my brother. It is not even in "Worse Case Scenarios" which seemed funny and was something Z, my brother, and I laughed about when he sent it to Big Kid.

And about writing, which has been integral to my identity, I have been torn from it and applied all of the guilt that a remiss older sister might feel to the endeavor. Why am I not a better blogger friend? How do people have time to read other blogs or even focus on them? I admire my faves so much - they are listed as is customary, but Suzanne and Purloined and all of those people over there keep writing and writing and I do wonder whatever happened to that homeless woman, maybe she's a millionaire now.

I am always diagnosing people and myself, like the doctor-by-proxy my dad always said I'd be and I definitely am GUILTY. I should have worked harder in school. I should have been tougher, but I should have been kinder. I should have cared about all of it instead of picking and choosing. I should have figured out how to keep my act together when several employers kinda said we're not firing you but you're not up to snuff.

Chrystal has all sorts of excuses for me re the traumas of the past few years, but really why I am not one of those nose-to-the-grindstone-republicanish types? I don't need reassurance, I need a diagnosis. I am truly obsessed with all the wrongs I have committed and I am fearful, too, because my boss really can be so mean and everyone there is intimidated yet there are things there I love.

And what does one do when the words are spoken? The trial is... I am not even sure who I am writing to but since my vow is to say something I do want to say something about how when you murder someone you devastate their family and it's children and mothers and regular people who might have been doing other things, like holding a little new baby neice, or worrying over stupid stuff. So now I am writing, and this is the documentation, and they don't ask sisters to make victim-impact statements, but I wish I could.

No wrap-it-all-up ending.