Out of Control

Not much going on. I've been getting frustrated easily and I guess my grief is manifesting in mini-hissy fits. I snap at my husband sometimes and then have to apologize as it's not him I'm angry at. I don't know who to be angry at. I feel so out of control and I hate that. I guess "feeling in control" is actually the falacy as we are never truly in control.

I had emailed the detective today just checking in. He had previously put in a call to the ME but never got a call back so placed a call today to the actual ME who did her autopsy. She said the toxicology results weren't back yet but she was going to call and have them check for methanol and/or ethylene glycol. He also had gotten the surveillance video from Walmart and he said he could clearly see Amanda and Ericka on the video. Maybe, if anything it can help prove or disprove one of the stories told by Ryan. At least it does give a time-frame that she was there. I miss her so much and it all just seems such a shame. I want to find out the truth. I pray that God will allow it to be revealed and that, if applicable, justice be served.

I kept thinking today about how she was found in a basically empty spare bedroom just sleeping on a little pallet on the floor with a blanket. It just makes me want to cry. My heart just wants to have been able to hold her, to have made her not go. The mom in me agonizes over the questions...was she aware of what was happening to her? Did she cry out for us? Was she scared? Did she struggle?Or did she just go to sleep? God, please tell my baby her Mama loves her to the moon and back. I guess by now she knows that nothing she could ever do would make you stop loving her, stop pursuing her, or welcome her into the Kingdom of Heaven because of her decision to accept Christ. All of that brings me comfort, but it doesn't stop my heart from missing her, from the ache that is always there. I want to hold her hand so much. I want to hear her laugh and sing and not just on a video.

I have a book I'm about to start by Mary Beth Chapman, "Choosing to See."  It's about her journey after they lost their little girl, Maria. A friend back home recommended it to me, so I bought it.

One of the I guess stupid things I've been doing since Der died is painting my fingernails regularly. She was always wanting us to go have a mommy-daughter day of having our nails done and I always said it was a waste of money since she always picked off her polish or took off her acrylic nails within a week. How I wish I would have just seized those opportunities and just spent the money just to have those precious times with her. So now I paint my nails for her. Stupid I guess, but I guess I just want to show her how sorry I am for being so shortsighted and not doing this one little thing that you wanted to do with me. I'm sorry, baby, for every single missed opportunity. I would trade every single dollar I "saved" to have those moments with you. What's money when you don't have your family with you? I miss her so, so much. It's still so hard to believe I can't just call or text her or go see her. I won't see her drive up in "Clifford the Little Red Car."  I won't see her throw her head back in that big laugh of hers. Stupid drugs. Stupid, stupid drugs. She was a hurting young lady, misunderstood, angry, and depressed and did what many do, searched for a way to ease the pain. Mommy loves you Sugarbear. I'm so sorry you hurt so much. You deserved so much more and I was so looking forward to helping you get there. Save a seat for me, Daddy, and Michael.