Friday, December 22, 2017
The burdens of my grieving has caused even my own partner to roll her eyes at me. It's not like I'm grieving every single day -- I have good days more than I have bad days, but this is my very first Christmas without mom. Give me some slack here. And anytime I'm sad or just having a tearful moment, I'm told to "cheer up" and that I'm depressing my dog. These comments are all from those who still have their parents of course. Don't get me wrong, I'm not bitter that people still have parents -- I'm not one of those jerks, but it kind of makes me wanna say, "Call me when your mother passes away and let me try and cheer you up before Christmas."
Am I angry? Maybe just a tad. Am I anxious? A lot. I'm anxious that I'm going to have a meltdown on Christmas -- a total 'lose my mind' moment where the guys in the white coats will finally take me away. My life has been destroyed. And then I'll get, "Oh, but you haven't seen all that I've gone through..." Sure, thank you for minimizing my grief for something entirely different, and yes, I'm sorry for all of the trouble you've seen. ::insert eye roll:: I sound so insensitive, and I probably am right now. I need ONE person to understand me, but I don't have not even ONE person who can sit down with me and say, "Deb, I totally get it..."
Don't worry, I'm not going to kill myself or write some sort of suicide note and leave the country and hide out at some resort and find a new name. (That kind of sounds good.) I want to live my life! I want to move on. I want to forget the last kiss I gave my mom on her forehead telling her that it was OKAY to let go and that I would be okay. I want to forget holding her hand as her entire body was slumped over her deathbed. I need new memories. She wasn't supposed to die that day. She went in for a fucking UTI. It's never the cancer that kills you. It's always the infection or side effects of whatever. Cancer sucks.
It's after midnight right now as I'm writing this. It's so silent, that I can hear the clock my mother bought me ticking loudly. I turn to the left and see all of the pots and pans that she bought me. I look to the right and I see all of the beautiful red dish towels she got me not too long ago because she overheard me saying that I needed them. Everything I have is her. The seat in front of me is the seat she used to sit in drinking her vodka and club soda with one lime and three olives. We would eat dinner on this counter and talk about her childhood, and of course gossip a little. I miss our chats. I miss telling her everything and getting her raw and ridiculous opinions about whatever drama I was going through. She understood me. She loved her crazy daughter.
And I loved her. I still do.
My heart hurts. I have to end this. But for now, Christmas is cancelled for me.
I hope everyone has a beautiful and Merry Christmas. I mean that.
Thursday, December 14, 2017
I don't talk much about her anymore. It obviously makes people uncomfortable. If I tell a story about Mom, pertaining to whatever subject we're on -- I get the "eye rolls." I always have this urge to say, "Well, once you lose your mom, let me see you refrain from talking about her." It's usually people who have never lost a mother, that kind of give you that, 'get over it' look. I notice it right away. So now, I keep it in. I keep it in until I am alone and grabbing Mom's box of tissues, that are soon to run out. As I cried myself to sleep, I dreamt of my mother. She looked like she was in her 40's and she appeared so happy. She told me, "You have so many angels, Deb! People up here just love you," and then she began to tell me who was there. Sadly, all the people up in heaven that I know are the ones I want to be with. I wish I could've jumped into that world, but it's just not my time yet. Then my mom said, "You have to stay, Debs...You make the house happy and you keep things funny. You're needed." Then later in the day, Madelene thanked me for dinner, and then she said, "Deb, you're so funny! You keep the house so funny!" And that to me, was confirmation.
For some reason, I just feel as though my purpose is over. I know it may be the grief or the tapering off from these God forsaken Prednisones, but my heart feels like my time is up, my purpose has been fulfilled. I feel like I'm ready to throw in the towel and go back home. But I'm still here and I don't know why. My parents were my family. Then Dad died. And what was left was my amazing mother who I loved more than my life. She was my family. And then she went home. Nobody will ever love me the way my mother did. I just don't want to face Christmas without her, New Years, my birthday, Easter...
Mom was the glue that kept our family together. And now, it feels like I lost my entire family. We rarely contact one another. It's okay though, we all have things in our lives that make us 'busy' -- and I totally get that.
My heart hurts. I don't want to write anymore, I don't want to edit anymore, I am not interested in live streaming anymore. Everything I typically do on a daily basis has been set on a very low priority, which means that I'm not making much money. I don't even care.
I know this isn't a happy happy joy joy post, but sometimes you need to see the many facets of someone's personality and feelings. I've been physically sick since Oct 1st and really not getting over it as fast as I would like. I still pray and trust God. I try to pray and meditate every single day, but for some reason, it's been a real challenge lately because I can't hear God. I can't hear the messages. I usually get some sort of message from God. Nothing. Maybe my heavy spirit is just deaf.
I don't see a silver lining. I see darkness and I can't shake it off. I just want to be with my mom and all of the wonderful people who have left us here. But God keeps telling me to stay. But why?
Bear with me.
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