Bogged Down

The rain and mud didn’t detour me from trying out my new chainsaw. And when Big Blue high centered on a hidden stump I finished the job by burying three of her wheels into the bog.

I used to plow the driveway out with an ATV, and got it stuck at least once a year. Niko would always come out and help dig me out. He’d tell me to go inside and take a break. When a neighbor slid into the ditch, Niko would go out into the dark and shovel them out. He could be difficult sometimes, but he had a big heart and never grumbled at having to rescue me or some stranger. And he never asked for nor expected any compensation. He did it because he wanted to.

But Nik wasn’t here to unstick me this time, so I called my brother, Rex. And like Nik, he came with a smile, a shovel, and the tools to help me. Plus, he reminded me of the time he had gotten stuck in the backyard, assuring me I wasn’t the only person to find themselves in such a muddy situation.

I’m glad I have family and friends to help me through the bogs.

We miss you, Nik. Every day.

Anger turned upside down = depression

It pisses me off that so few mention your name. That they put me on a pedestal because I didn't relapse when you died. That the rain falls as surely as my tears. That you died and I miss you everyday. That I didn't get a big enough scholarship to go to grad school. Didn't I work hard for it? Don't I deserve it? When I was in college, I had a goal, and that kept me going in a positive direction. That gave me a purpose. And now, I feel lost. And anger burns, so I hold it in and now I have a blister growing in my brain. But even the blister doesn't erase the guilt, the loss, the hopelessness I feel. I'm like a dog paddling through the sewer and the smile that I pasted on my face to fake my way through every hour has turned into a bitter grimace. Why didn't you wear your seatbelt?