Finally Home Safe

http://www.nmsoh.org/gonzales_earl_clarissa_us.htm 51463778_1601037920460546_r.jpeg51463778_1601037955318723_r.jpeg51463778_1601037988886347_r.jpeg51463778_1601038009981115_r.jpeg51463778_1601038044542206_r.jpeg51463778_1601038064478534_r.jpegI am Kassy, I am the sister and step daughter to Earl and Clarissa.  This murder is still unsolved and has devistated my family and my life immeasurably and continues to wreak never ending testicles' wrath of anxiety and pain.  I was 19 when I lost my baby sister and step father to their violent and still unsolved murder.  That really flipped my world around and I started drinking.  That was really the only coping mechanism I was armed with at the time, and for miserable years following.  My mother liked the bar scene and found herself there as often as possible.  I didn't know anything else.  Drink when it's good;drink when it's bad.  I didn't know how to live with her gone, in a normal, sober manner.  I wasn't able to face it at all.  I started to have chest pain one day and chalked it up to my drunking and smoking, habits; not habits, abuse, but I was 19 couldn't be a heart attach.  Besides, heart attacks don't last 3 non-stop miserable months.  Yes, for three months I suffered, waiting for it to go as easily as it came.  This was suffering that never ceased.  My chest hurt all the time but so much worse if I bent over or payed down.  The pain was in my chest but wasn't affecting my breathing other than the labored breaths of more excruciating pain after bending or laying down.  Kinda like lemause breathing.  I finally had to face my mother (who was also a Registered Nurse), and tell her I thought I was alergic to the weed I was smoking and about the pain and that I could beat it no longer.  At 19 I was diagnosed with severe anxiety.  A few hard, dark, years passed, or more like waded by, empty without her, my baby sister.  Then one day, three days after a heated jealous argument between my then husband and my mother, the phone rang.  My mother's name was on the caller I.D..  See my mother and husband were at odds because of me.  My mother and I worked together at the local hospital, night shifts.  When we would get off work my mom would sometimes ask me to stay with her, even hug her, untill she fell asleep,. The loss of her daughter too heavy to bear.  This was uncomfortable and awkward for me to say the least as my mother was nil to showing any real affection toward us as children.  But I would awkwardly oblige my mother and stay by her side untill the snoring began.  Well my husband was just sure I was cheating and the war blazed.  I felt stuck between my mother and my husband.  Trying to stay out of it more or less, I was glad to finally see my mother was at least calling again.  Except when I said hello, it wasn't her at all.  No, it was a man's voice.  A man I knew well, the local county coroner.  My mother was gone.  Overdosed, accidentally, and asleep, forever.  I was 22.  And besides my older brother, who tormented me in ways way beyond anything normal, plus, everyone I grew up with and loved was gone.  Poof.  No warnings, no good byes.  I really spiraled down then.  Wanting to join them but forever unsuccessful at taking my own life I drowned in my misery, sorrow, pity, and despair.  I played them to my favor to quickly quiet the voice of anyone who tried to get me sober.  All of my other family disowned me for becoming a drunken ass.  It was so much easier to push me away and pick out my burial plot, then to care n try to help me in any meaningful, loving, non belittling way.  Just turned their backs.  Since then I wish I could say something awesome or amazing happened for me, but it didn't.  I have laid another infant sister, my best friend, among so many others, and recently my father to rest.  I would now be totally alone, except that would have given me an easy go.  God, gave me a son, a son doctors said my body would never bare because of the affects my anxiety was having on it.  I was now not just having chest pain, but full blown non-epileptic seizures, horrible night terrors, agoraphobia, unrealistic fears...the list goes on.  So hear I am at 40 years old still suffering from PTSD, the anxiety just overbearing.  I can't control it and I know that it is going to kill me.  That would have been great.  All those years trying, but now I have my son, and I'm all he has.  I can't fail.  In any way.  I can't be short on the bills cuz I have no one I'm the world that could help me.  Not even a twenty dollar loan, or a ride to the store.  If I get arrested for anything, I would lose my son to the state before I could even bond out as I have no one to take him.  For him, for us I am reaching out.  My anxiety and fibromyalgia have me 10% disabled.  I worry so much about not having what we need and losing the only light I have, along with my sanity.  It's making me crazy but I am just not able to stop worrying about meeting our basic needs.  We have no vehicle must walk everywhere and for everything I cannot have mailed in.  Getting non-pantry groceries for example and carrying them home.  My body just can't like it used to anymore.  My home, if the landlord raises the rent or we need to move it's next to impossible to save to have deposit and moving money etc.  I have dealt with these problems, slept on the street etc.  But I have Miles now he deserves a decent chance.  I have thought about this for a long time.  What might really work to decrease this anxiety and worry that plagues me constantly so that I may be happy and relaxed and have mind space to think and be in the here and now with my son.  We need to feel secure, which I do not realistically see me ever being able to really give us with my income and disabilities.  I no longer drink and have truly come a long long way from the dark I dwelled in.  I live my life simply, but honestly and I try to do morally right, even when it hurts.  So I thought I would come here and tell my story.  See if I can accomplish something I will probably never have.  But I am doing it honestly.  I want a small house and maybe a vehicle so that we can live without so much worry.  I would finally feel safe and secure in something no one could take away, or use to manipulate, or just get too expensive or some other unforeseen event leaving us on the street and me without my heart.  I just couldn't bear it.  So after fighting countless boughts of anxiety with myself I am making myself at least try.  For my son.  I can't do much for him, but my life's wish is to leave him a home so he will never be alone and homeless with no family to speak of.  I want to live some of my life knowing relief from constant worry, sleepless nights etc.  I want think slowly and completely again.  I want to focus on us now and remember my memories.  I want to store these precious moments I have with my son but stress has put it's claim on my long term memory storage too.  I have a thyroid disease that should make it hard not to gain weight.  But ladies and gentlemen, my anxiety even trump's that.  I'm smaller now than even when I was in high school.  If somehow this really could happen, I would be reborn without all the stress.  I could eat by and sleep and maybe even sit still, like most people do every day.  I guess I just want to finally feel ok n live in my life if you can understand what I mean.  If you can please help me.  I'm tired of fighting this.  If not, thank you for taking your time to hear my story.  Remember love hard because tomorrow really could be the kinkiest day you ever knew.  No matter how bad it seems having something, a not so great mom for example, is better than to have none at all.
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