Two Years

Two years, 24 months,731 days and more hours that I can count.   Thats how long she has been gone.  And although I appreciate the wonderful people who say things like....*this will pass* *it gets easier with time* and my all time favorites (NOT) *GOD needed her* and *she's in a better place*...Guess what?  NO.  It didn't pass. It didn't get any easier.  NO, HE didnt need her as much as I do.  And NO,Shes not in a better place.  The best place was here with me and everyone else who loves her

I guess Im just in a really negative space right now.  Guess its a good thing Ive been scheduled an appointment with a therapist tomorrow morning.  As I get closer to June 13, that abyss that is usually in the background part of my brain...calling to me....telling me this just sucks...wanting to bring me down into its bottom...it becomes louder and louder.

So many of her friends and even her younger sister are having babies.  Including her boyfriend.  It makes me so happy for them.  But it makes me so sad for Aja.   She should have been able to experience that.  She should have been here to style Imani for her prom and do her hair and makeup.  She should be here to hound me to make her favorites..empenadas and potato salad.  She should be here to convince me to go out to Wet Willies and drink some slushies...

So if I seem outta sorts for the next few weeks, please dont take it personally.  Its 2 years.....24 months...and 731 days since my heart was shattered.

Scattered Thoughts of a Broken Me

Scattered Thoughts of a Broken Me

 

I’m sorry for my scattered thoughts, but that is just how they come to me.  Some days, I wake up with a smile on my face and life is okay.  But more often than not..I wake up and it’s like a gut punch, with my first thought *It’s not a nightmare..this is my reality*  Because I’ve always been open and honest about my struggles, I’m able to say to people *I hurt*.

 

But I don’t tell them just how much it hurts.  I don’t tell them about the days when the tears are just sitting on my eyelids all day long.  Waiting for any excuse to start falling.  I don’t tell them about the nights when I bury my face in my pillow and attempt to muffle the screams that come pouring out, because I don’t wanna scare or sadden anyone.  I hold off describing how sometimes, my head spins with so many sad thoughts and memories, that it feels as though I’m having a stroke.  Or how it feels like the worst physical pain you could ever feel and multiply it by 1000.   I don’t usually tell them how much I wish there was someone who was here to hold me and let me cry when the sadness hits.

 

I long for one of her hugs.  Or to walk in the door and hear *Hi Mummy!!,* and giggle in her sweet voice.  I long to be able to experience her wedding, or her pregnancies.  To see her hold her first child and feel the intense love that only a mother can understand.   To watch her grow into the amazing woman that I was so sure she was going to be.  I miss seeing her with her brother and sister, loving on them and being silly.  And watching her struggle to hold Onyx and yell at him *Love me dammit!!* Or doing her happy dance when I cooked one of her many favorite foods.

 

I just miss.  I miss so damn much.  I miss the Lisa that I used to be.  I call her “June 12, 2014 Lisa”.  I miss being happy.  I miss feeling like the world is a good place.  I miss not having to explain why I no longer have 3 kids.  I miss being able to look at a picture of my child and not wanting to remember every minute detail of what was happening when we took the picture.  I miss being able to sing.  I miss talking to my daughter, who was also…my friend.  I miss her voice and I’m terrified that one day, I will not be able to hear it in my head.  I just miss.

 

And Now The Tests Become Testimony

My friend Tee and I have been bouncing this idea for some time now.  Speaking and writing HONESTLY about our trials.  And eventually writing a book.  There has been SO much pain..that sometimes ALL we can do is throw up our hands and say...EFF it God.  What else ya got for me man?   

So...this is my honesty.  My truth.  It's not pretty.  A lot of it is not public information and it may shock people.  You may even want to stop reading now.  That's just being real .  I'm not writing it to gain sympathy or to depress anyone.  It's to say..if I can weather these storms, YOU can also do this.  And if you need help, we will weather them together.   That being said....

June 13, 2014 my 23 year old daughter Aja Dawn Robinson was brutally murdered by her ex-boyfriend.  She was executed with a shot to her throat with a 45, and then he stood over her and shot her in the back of her head.  He then took his own life.  The grief was incredible.  And the after effects a little too much to bear.

I made a half assed attempt on my life  in July by driving into traffic and was hospitalized and received treatment .  My younger child  made an attempt on her life  in August.  She was also hospitalized and treated.  During this time, my 23 y/o's "twin" ( her best friend that I had taken in at age 14) returned to live with me, as she was having a difficult time coping with Aja's murder.   On Thanksgiving eve of 2014..you guessed it...she swallowed multiple  bottles of pills.  Thanksgiving of 2014 was spent in the ER while she  received an emergency psych eval and  treatment.

With time, we got stronger.  We are all actively working thru our grief and I have started a fb group and a small still forming non-profit called Angels for Aja.  We will provide domestic violence education, awareness and assistance to anyone who requests our help.  In addition, we plan to participate in community events and keep Aja's name alive through love and actions.

On May 15, 2015..Michelle had a severe asthma attack.  She lost her heartbeat and pulse and was brain dead for 28 minutes before they could revive her.  She was on life support in a coma from May 15 until mid July.  She is now home, but at just 24, she is confined to a wheelchair, unable to speak, use her arms or legs, is in diapers and totally dependent for personal care .  The outcome is not expected to change.

Again..we bounced back.  We take care of her and attend to her needs.  Last week on Thursday, I went to the E.R. because I was having a pretty severe asthma attack.  Unfortunately, they admitted me within minutes and I got devastating news.  I have heart failure.  I have been in the hospital ever since.  And have spent today doing some heavy praying and thinking.  I AM a fighter, but I also am practical.  I was not prepared for my child's death.  I will not leave my remaining  children unprepared.  I plan to create my living and after death arrangements and have already spoken to the people who I would like to care for my children.

I plan to make EVERY moment that I am here a testament to the memory of Aja Dawn.  And to the strength of Michelle, Imani, April, Fred, Char, DaShawna, Jauhara, Kia and Aaron.  My children by birth and the children who I've been blessed to love in my life.   We cannot allow ANYTHING to crush our spirit.  I keep telling people...I miss Aja and for a while, I really wanted to go and be with her.  But not yet.  I'm not done here.  I'm not going to give up, but when my time comes, I'm at peace, as long as my babies are okay.   So...this is my truth.  I'm grieving, a lil crazy at times, struggling to stay afloat, angry, disappointed, terrified, heartbroken.  And STRONG.  I have to be after all this shit.  

Please love and protect the people around you.  I had a long talk with Char last night...very long.  And had to tell her some things that I know she was not ready for.  But she's one of my oldest kids and whether she believes it or not...she is one of my STRONGEST kids.  She now has a role.  To carry on my "Big Mama" role with April.  They are to make sure that all of the children remain in contact, remain a support to each other, have monthly dinners if they live in the same area, etc.  April is another who does not know her own strength.  She will though.  I see it in her.  I see the "big mama" makings in my girls, and I love it.  And I love them.   More to come.  I promise.  My story is not over yet.

So You Think You Know Me?

Understanding me is a losing battle!  I confuse my own damn self and yet...it all makes perfect sense to me ...probably why Ill be single til Im 99!  On Monday I love you and never wanna lose you , Tuesday you burped or farted and annoyed me and became unattractive , Wednesday you stole a jelly belly jelly bean when I wasnt looking and Im ready to stab you with a spork, Thursday I miss the hell outta you and need you back in my life and would probably marry you if you stopped by the Justice (see example hubbies 1&2 from my past), Friday I saw some big, tatted, bearded dude walking by and and he caught my eye, Saturday Ive deleted your number and am texting with big, tatted, bearded dude without so much as a goodbye nukka *DEUCES* to you ...Sunday, I don't wanna be bothered ever again in life and want to move away and live in a bunker.  Welcome to the mind and heart of Lisa.  To know me is to either love the hell outta me or want to punch me in the throat with brass knuckles.  Sometimes both on the same day.

I Release You. Rest In Peace Jeremy Mickens

I'll never understand how you could take away the air I breathe and one of the only loves of my life Jeremy.  But I forgive you babe.  Because I know the love that Aja had for you as a person and she would be sad if I didnt forgive you.  My family and friends may never understand my forgiveness, but if Allah can forgive me, I can forgive you.  Insha Allah, I  pray that you rest with the Angels and your heart is no longer hurting Jeremy Mickens.  Be at Peace now #RestinParadise #TryingtoHeal #Ireleaseyou #JeremyMickens #AngelsforAja #AjaDawnRobinson #June13

June 8, 2015

I have finally reached the week that I have been dreading for the last few months…the week approaching the 1 year marker.

Rationally, I can tell myself that I will simply put one foot in front of the other and get thru that day much the same as I have gotten thru every other painful day.   But man, when I tell you…EVERY fiber of my being is crying out, every beat of my heart wants to be the last beat, I close my eyes to shelter myself from the images in my head but they just get more vivid.  I block my ears, but I can’t stop hearing Aja crying out for me. 

I think about and already miss the grandbabies that will never be born of Aja, or the husband she will never marry, the college she will never graduate from, the first house she will never get a chance to celebrate.  I miss the girly giggles between Aja, Michelle and Mani late at night.  The relentless teasing poor Aaron had to put up with.  Aja climbing up into my bed to snuggle with me, or walking in my room with all of her nail supplies..announcing she was doing my nails.  Even her walking in and demanding that I lay down so she could *clean up these ugly a** eyebrows*

Everyone says all of this will lessen with time.  I don’t know how that can be possible.  I don’t think the pain will do anywhere.  I just find different ways to navigate it and to accept the pain, welcome it home like an old friend and understand…the depth of my pain is simply a reflection of the depth of the love that I continue to have for Aja.

After The Headlines (What Happens Next)

Surving the first week.

How, Why, NO and My Baby.  I think those were the only words that I managed to get out for the first week.  My life had totally collapsed.  My baby was gone.  A part of me died on June 13 at approximately 5:48am. 

I couldn't understand, I WOULDN'T comprehend, I couldn't wrap my brain around the fact that my child was no longer here.

My memory of the first week is hazy.  I was medicated for all of the first 2 months or so.  I mean nonstop...24 hours a day.  I thank Allah for that.  I don't know if I would have ever made it thru that time period otherwise.  But I will try to tell the story. 

Immediately after the Coroner arrived to my house.  One of my bosses and my friend/coworker showed up.  Apparently,  the police had tried to find me at work before trying my house.  When th coroner showed up, I yelled for my niece Kia to get Imani out of the house..to go for a drive.  I knew what I was about to hear, and I didnt want Imani to hear the details.  Kia and her friend rushed  Imani out of the house and drove away.

Thats when I get hazy.  I remember calling my close friend and crying into the phone that I needed her.  I remember my boss and coworker trying to console me, but I was past consolation.  The coroner left and my friends started the first cycle of phone calls.  The hardest calls in my life were to my son and mother.  I still dont remember if I called Aja's father or someone else did.  I don't remember much of anything after that. 

My closest friends began showing up at that point.  I know that within hours of my call, my mother, sister and niece were on the road to SC from Boston.  My son and daughter Michelle would be flying in the next day.  I was prescribed Ativan by the agency's Medical Director and someone picked it up, and I was kept on it around the clock.

I don't know when or how the media interview requests came in.  I just recall them coming starting on Saturday.  Or maybe it was Friday.  I don't recall speaking, but apparently I did.  In hindsight, looking at the interviews...I just appeared drugged.  I don't remember how the funeral arrangements were made.  Tiffany stepped in and helped coordinate all of that.  I do know that the funeral home, Leevy's were so incredibly kind and I am forever indebted.

It was at that point, that I learned about the GoFundMe account that had been eatablished by my close friends.  Again, I am forever indebted to the generosity and kindness of so many people.  There were also fundraisers being planned by friends among the karaoke community in Columbia and Club 555 management.

Unfortunately, I truly don't remember much of this time.  I know that my brother came down from Greenville, Imani's daddy came in from Boston and a friend of mine took it upon himself to have my car repaired and made drivable again.

What I do remember is crying.  And screaming, and vomiting, and beginning to have the suicidal and  self harming thoughts that would start to take over my life until I wound up being hospitalized in July.  Not many people know about that dark period, but Ive decided to bring it forth in the 3rd blog.