Feeling Lost

I miss my mom. Not having her around makes me feel so lost. I'm getting ready to go to Vegas with a family friend. I should be excited. And I was, until just now. Suddenly I'm so sad. I wish I could have had an opportunity to travel with my mom just once more. I wish I could have her back. I wish she wasn't gone. Everything still feels so surreal. Like it's never going to feel real. And the thought of it never feeling real is so scary. Like I'll be in limbo forever.

Change

I used to talk to my Mom everyday on the phone. Sometimes it drove her crazy, but I just liked talking to her. I told my mom everything. It's hard to adjust to not having someone to do that with.

Last night, my car died. I usually would have called my mom. I didn't need to call my mom. Obviously, I figured everything out. (I did call my brother. He knows about cars.) But I did want to share with someone that I got everything figured out, that my brother is a car hero for diagnosing what was wrong from 400 miles away and that I have awesome friends who help me figure out what parts store is open on a Sunday and can actually replace the belt that exploded. Anyways, all of this to say that I called my Dad to tell him about everything, and it just isn't the same. I knew it wouldn't be. But somehow I'm really upset about it.

A large part of it, I think, is that I'm worried about my Dad. He's so sad and just doesn't sound like himself on the phone. And when I see him in person -- it's pretty much the same. I know I can't make it better. I can't fix anything; and we all have to feel through all of this. I just wish I was stronger somehow. I wish I could just fix everything and make it so that we all don't hurt so much all the time. Of course, I know that we have to feel the hurt to get through all of this.

I think the hardest thing is having so many people tell me that I am going to hurt for the rest of my life. I recognize that on some level. And yet, I sit here, with this extreme hurt that I can't describe to anyone, wondering if I am going to feel this extreme hurt for the rest of my life. Does the hurt ever lessen? Is there such a thing as a "new normal?" Will I always cry when I miss my mom? The questions go on and on. And the answers don't seem to exist.

Reflection

My last post was on the one month mark of my Mother's death. I had no idea. I knew I was angry. I knew I was hurt. It all kind of makes sense now. For those of you wondering, the misplaced item was recovered. Not that it really matters.

I miss my Mom. I say that pretty much every time I write. I seems to have the same cycle of feelings. Hurt, anger, longing, sadness, denial . . . you know, the stages of grief I guess. I never know where I'm going to be from day to day. Part of me can hear my Mom saying, "it will all work out, it always does." But how do you work out not having your Mom anymore. I have no idea how to reconcile these feelings. I feel lost. But, I don't feel hopeless anymore. I think that's what they call "progress." (Though, I think this kind of progress is bullshit.)

A Lack of Control

I feel so frustrated. I know that once something of my Mom's leaves our possession, I no longer have control over it. It's not mine -- it's not my Mom's. But it is so hard for me to know that something of my Mom's has been misplaced. The particular piece that's been misplaced is something I gave to my Mom, and letting go of it was REALLY hard for me. Rationally, I know it wasn't done on purpose. The irrational side of me, however, is so mad. It was really hard for me to let go of this piece. And yes, I'm aware that I am upset over a thing. A stupid thing. And it's not the things that matter. I KNOW THIS. And yet, I'm still so upset. Part of me feels like, okay, this is the only important thing I ever gave my Mom. And I felt like I had to let it go, because I should have seen it, and chosen it for myself. I wish I could explain the way I feel. All of my words feel hollow. But the thing is--this hurts me. It makes me angry. All I have left of my Mom are things and memories. Recognizing that is so hard. Knowing that I can't ever communicate with her again is hard. And her things . . . it's stupid, but that's how I feel closer to her. All of these feeling over stupid possessions. Ugh!

Seeing Mom

Last night I pulled my phone out of my pocket and it said, "Would you like to delete Mom Cell?" My eyes teared up and I asked my friend if it was weird that I couldn't do that yet, even though the phone number is no longer in service. Of course the answer is no. And just now, my Mom appeared online on my gmail account. I couldn't help but write to her. And I hoped so much that I would get a response back. Of course I didn't, but I just wish, more than anything, that I could have one more conversation with her. I wish she could tell me all the things that maybe she didn't tell me. And so that I could tell her all the things I never told her.

Maybe someday I'll feel like I can delete my Mom's cell phone number. Maybe I won't. Maybe right now I'm making a big deal out of something that doesn't really matter . . . who knows. I wish I could still talk to her. I wish things were different in so many ways. But, I can't change the circumstances, I can only figure out how to move on with life.

I Miss Her

I miss my mom so much. I don't even know how to function most days. I just move on and around in this haze. I'm often told that I won't ever get over this. I have a little experiencing with not getting over things. But this is different. My mom got me through those other moments. I miss my mom. I feel so alone. I feel so lost. Today is not a good day. And days like today make me wonder if these days will ever end.

One Moment at a Time

I feel like I've accomplished a lot in the last few days. I find that I feel better when I'm taking care of things the my Mom left behind. Changing bills into my Dad's name, closing down my Mom's cell phone, etc. Sometimes I wonder if I'm annoying my Dad. I hope that he really does find it helpful. I guess I sort of feel impatient for all of it. I need for so many of these things to be done. And I don't really know why. I don't know if it will bring me closure. I don't know what I expect I guess. I just know that I feel better getting things done. And I hope I am helping. My Dad is back at work, and so busy. By the time he gets home, the last thing he wants to do is make these phone calls. At least that's what I think. We talk about it a little. But I worry that I am annoying him. Part of me feels this need to take care of my Dad, because my Mom did. That is not my responsibility. I know that.

As I write this, I see that I am worrying about everything. I guess I just feel like my Mom took care of all of us. So we have to figure out how to go on without her. I don't want to be the one who takes care of everyone, but I do want to be the one who takes care of my Mom. That sounds weird, because she's not here anymore, but she is in her things. And taking care of the things that were important to her feels like I'm taking care of what's left of my Mom.

I wish I knew or understood why I feel so anxious about my parent's home. I told my therapist today that part of me worries that I want to "erase" my Mom from the house. I know, rationally, that's not the case. I just feel like I can't more forward until there is a level of "new normal." And part of getting there, at least for me, is to be able to walk into my parent's house and not feel like time has stood still. I hate seeing piles of my Mom's things stacked because my Dad doesn't know what to do with it, or I don't know what to do with it.

                                                                     

A Bad Day

I miss my mom so much. Her death has changed not just my life, but my entire family. Nothing is the same and I don't know how to navigate this new world.  I don't know how to figure out how to go on. Some days I just want to erase all my memories. Everything. Wipe the mind clean and start over. And then I think about how my mom shaped who I am. And I don't know why she isn't here anymore. I don't know why I couldn't help her. And I don't understand how she could leave all of us.

I'm worried about my Dad. I'm worried about my brother. And I'm worried about me. I feel like I need to be stronger and take care of things, but I don't feel like I can. I'm overwhelmed. I feel like a failure. And worst of all, I feel weak. I wish I had someone to lean on, but I don't. And not having that makes me feel insecure, and wanting it makes me feel weak. I feel like I have to take care of everything. And I don't know how. I don't know where to start and I know I need help. But who do you ask for help? 

Anger and Jealousy

I'm angry that everyone else in my life still has their mom. Of course that's not rational, and I know it. But I still feel angry. And underneath the anger, is jealousy. That's what it really is. At least I think it is. I'm jealous that other people can still call their mom's and they make them feel better. I'm jealous that people can still fight with their mom's.

The thing that sucks is that I'm having a REALLY hard fucking time. And normally when I'm having a hard time, I call my mom. I go home and talk to her about. She was always honest and frank with me. Sometimes, at least initially, I didn't like what she had to say, but she way ALWAYS right. And I don't have that anymore. I feel lost. And sad. And scared. 

I'm dreading so many things in my life because she's not here anymore. She won't be here for my birthday in June. She won't see me graduate. Or get married. She'll never meet another person I date or friend. Which means I'll never hear her tell me that she likes a person. Or better yet, that someone is a flake and ask me what I am thinking. (Those were often my favorite conversations.) I cherish those moments. And I miss them already.    Everyday I think of something else I want my mom to be there. That's one of the many things that sucks about this situation. 

The Missing

I listen to the dogs bark outside. Desperately trying to come back inside the house. They're traumatized. They were outside for way too long the day my mom got sick. It's only been about three weeks since my mom went into the hospital. But I suspect in the dog universe that's a long time. Three weeks tomorrow . . . Yesterday was a week since the funeral and Thursday is two weeks since her death.

In recent years I've been trying to figure out how to prepare myself for the death of my grandparents. Never did it cross my mind that the death I'd be dealing with would be my Mom's. I miss her so much. I spoke with her nearly every day, even at age 28.

Right now, I'm sitting in her chair. My Dad went back to work today. And I'm sitting in her chair trying to figure out how to make myself get up, pack myself up, and head back to Spearfish. I have to go back today. I have a final tomorrow and business to take care of. It's like I'm scared to leave my parent's house.

Right now, the hardest thing, besides missing her so fucking much, is seeing all of the advertisements for Mother's Day. . .

The weirdest thing about this whole situation is that while my world stopped, reality kept on chugging. I haven't worked for three weeks. I'm a college student. I can't afford to not work for, well for any amount of time. I'm stressed. I'm lonely. I want to call my mom and ask her what to do, but I can't . . . I can't ever call my mom again. That is so painful. I want to give up. I want to throw in the towel and just be done with everything. But, I know that's just stupid.

The Loss

My mom turned 49 on April 9th this year. Ten days later, she was dead. My mom was my best friend. She was the way I measured my success in life. When I was a child, I longed for my mom to be my friend. She told me, repeatedly, that her job was to be my mother, not my friend. She also said that when I was older, we would be friends. As a teenager, I never believed her. As a 28 year old woman, not only were we friends, we were mother and daughter. That bond is so amazing and I can't believe that I longed for something different (stupid teenager).

I don't know why my mom is gone. I don't know what she was going through in her final hours. I don't know much of anything. What I do know is that I miss her more than I knew I could miss someone. I feel lost. I feel alone. I'm angry. And I'm scared. I'm scared to go back to my apartment. I'm scared I'll forget her. I'm scared I'll disappoint her. I think what I'm scared of most, is that I won't ever be able to tell this story . . .