Process

It wasn’t suppose to be like this.

I was suppose to be okay

I think I’m dying a little more

Everyday.

My heart is broken.

And I try so hard to feel.

I made a promise

Just trying to process

I’ve become someone else

I can’t reach the old me

I can’t see who I use to be

Your voice has faded

I looked at the red,green, yellow and blue lights

Illuminate the night time

The joy I once felt

Now a void that can’t be filled

New journey

Make decisions and sticking with them. I left my mother’s beloved home behind, to much happened there and I knew I would t be able to heal myself or my children. I often wonder if I’m making the right decision or making a rash decision. It’s hard. I constantly feel as though I’m in a lose lose situation. But this decision was for the best. I thought of every possible solution and answer. Even though it was hard.

I’m living with friends and it’s going well at least I would say that. I’m grateful to have a place to go and lay my head. Now if only I could pull my head out of my ass and find a job that makes me feel like I’m headed in the right direction. I feel so much pressure I put on myself and then I feel anxious about what I choose. I don’t feel “happy” I guess that’s a part of the progress though. Learning to change one’s self.

Signed up for school something I have put off for four years now. I can’t let anything stop me or hold me back any longer. Or I will constantly find reasons to put it off. Then to find a job that I can work around my school schedule. Life seems to be so hard but I feel like I can breathe some. And that is always a plus. Even though the depression has its days where it comes roaring it’s ugly head and I find myself hiding in my dream world where everything as I would like it to be. I know I can’t do this all the time. Reality must find me eventually, and sooner rather than later.

Maybe one day I won’t feel so empty anymore, maybe one day I won’t be stuck in such a turmoil and grief that outweighs everything else. For now I will count my blessing as I continue putting one foot in front of the other on this new journey, and finding my happiness again.

I’m not okay…

I go each day with this fake smile plastered on my face and pretend like everything is okay. You could literally look me in the face and would never know that on the inside I feel completely dead. A way to protect my mind from falling apart or maybe if I do it long enough I’ll actually believe it one day. Of course, I know better it hasn’t changed since my first run in with depression, of course back then I didn’t know how to disassociate myself.

Disconnect from all that makes me, me…. Feelings, emotions, memories, and the longer I do it the further away I become from someone I use to know dearly. Feeling happy is a very rare occasion for me since more of my time is spent locked under a blanket wishing it could actually help me escape the world and what comes with it. I spend more time sleeping and dreaming then I do in the waking world. But hey no one can tell the difference. Sometimes I really wish someone could see it though.

I wish so badly that someone could see how loud I’m screaming on the inside, but all they hear is my silence on the out. I wish someone would wrap their arms around me and never let me go, instead of taking advantage of me in my weakened states. All these “men” that pretend to care but only add to the hate I have for myself every time I don’t fight, or ask and beg them to stop but my pleas only land on def ears as they do what they will.

My trust has been broken more times then I can even count, and along this journey of life I’ve completely lost who I am and what I stand for. I wish I could go back to the days where I was a little carefree girl who didn’t remember being betrayed. Who believed in the people around her and loved so deeply…

How easy it would be to leave this cold world behind, but I won’t, or maybe I can’t. At this point I’m not really sure what is correct and what isn’t. What more lessons does this life have to teach me, what more must I endure? My soul is shattered and I’m holding it together with duct tape and super glue, I’m surviving because that’s what I always do by any means the goal is to just survive another day in this messed up world.

When did people stop caring? Stop sharing? And stop listening….

This thing says what’s on your mind? funny, how social media asks us every time we sign on what is on our mind but who actually puts what’s actually on their mind? we have grown cold with thoughts that nobody want’s to truly know what’s on our mind. we go through things in our lives alone, with the deep rooted thought that what’s the point in talking about our bad day we had, or good day because no one truly cares anyway. thinking about just that is sad, how many people in this world feel completely alone, like they don’t have anyone during their times of need and we have the ability to be there for those we love at our hands.. and we don’t do it.

How many lives could we change by reading and being there for someone, letting them know you are there to just listen. what has hardened us so much that when something bad happens we can’t show empathy or compassion for those going through it and tell them that it gets better?

why don’t we talk about the guilt that some live with after they have had to make decisions for their loved one… my mom three years ago got a biopsy of her colon.. in the end she ended up back in the hospital with sepsis due to stitches tearing. they ended up having to take out more of her bowels and she ended up with an ostomy bag. while she laid helpless in the hospital my brother and I were the ones that had to make the hard choices and of course we went against everything she wanted.. After that I often found myself feeling guilty, of course I had my mother back and she wasn’t mad about it. she was clear… cancer free…. until she wasn’t again…. this time the cancer had invaded her liver… she found this out after two years of living with an ostomy bag and wanting it taken off.

Here she was thinking she was strong enough to handle this major surgery and the truth was she was slowly but surly dying. I made the decision to care for her, it was a hard decision for me just because emotionally and mentally I didn’t know if I had it in me to watch and she declined into a shell of the person I loved and knew, but thinking of all the times she overprotected me, loved me, and did her ultimate best to care for me, made it an easier choice. I did it..

I spent days making her food, doing her dishes, cleaning the house, making her bed. To having to help her in and out of the bathtub, to helping her walk to go to the bathroom. She moved from the living room to the back bedroom, and back to the living room, I spent my nights listening to her whine in pain and not be able to get comfortable and me not be able to help, then as soon as she would get comfortable and I was on the verge of passing out from exhaustion she would call me to take her to the bathroom and it would start all over again.

I was overwhelmed, exhausted, and felt completely helpless, even with hospice coming in to help, I felt guilty for wanting to just take a nap, it felt selfish, and I was angry, angry at feeling like I was doing it alone, angry at God, I was losing my mother before my eyes. I felt guilt after she passed because what if I could of done more for her? helped her more in some way….

No one ever talks about the guilt a person faces when being the care taker… No one talks about the emotional and mental roller coaster ride you go on… Not a day goes by that I don’t wish my mother was here to talk to about stupid stuff, to ask advice, or just laugh with.. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss her with all my heart… Not a day goes by that I don’t think of the day she left us, and telling her it was okay, we would be alright, and I knew she would watch over us all. I couldn’t hold her, kiss her, touch her as she took her last breath, and I feel that guilt everyday, of not being able to be strong enough to be with her by her side. instead I watched through a window wishing I could tear the screen out and jump in and beg her to stay, because I was scared of a world without her in it.

Even though I’m still scared of the world without my mom in it, I have found my strength to keep moving forward, I look at my children and the memories I loved with my mom I continue to pass on to them. I know she would be proud. the guilt gets easier and even though it never fully goes away, I accept that I did all I could do. Life can be hard at times… but even when we feel alone, we aren’t always alone. there is always a reason to keep faith, to keep moving forward with our lives, and look for brighter days.

Precious moments

“I love you.” She said as I passed her

“I love you too.” I reply as I begin to enter my room.

It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement that you say to your kids, I didn’t know how many more of these I had left with her. So after staying up most of the night I made her some scrambled eggs, and handed her the plate. As she started to feed herself I noticed her grip wasn’t as firm and the plate was tilting, out of instinct I grabbed the plate from her sat down on the floor in front of her and began to spoon feed her. She scratched her nose and on an exhausted breath looked me in the eye and said “you’re a good daughter.” All because of a simple act and showing her love. I was losing my mother. The one who had spent years not only taking care of me but helped raised my children as well. I was scared to death that one of these mornings I would wake up and she would be gone.

My brother sat on one end of the couch, and I on the other, as the nurse checked out my mother and another began talking about end of life care facilities, costs, and others that I couldn’t get to understand. I was exhausted, my mother sat on the edge of her hospital bed, she was tired, she was worn out, and as she tried to listen she looked over at me and seen the tears streaming down my cheeks

“ what’s wrong babygirl?” She asked.

“Nothing mom.” I replied as I fought more tears that wanted to escape my betraying eyes.

“Come on babygirl, what’s wrong?”

“I want to give you what you want but I need help. I want to be your daughter again, I want to enjoy the time I have left with you.” I say in defeat.

My mother hangs her head and begins to cry. I go to her and wrap her in my arms as if I can stop what is happening to her body with the love I have for her. I kiss the top of her now bald head and tell her I love her. We are both worn down from the fight. We didn’t have enough time. Two months without her chemo treatment and her body had turned on her. She was done fighting, she was ready. Ready to take our love with her to heaven as she said to me.

A few days later we gathered around her window, as we waited for her to take her final breath, and her heart to stop beating. She was right, on the day her body became a shell, and her soul went to be with our Heavenly Father, she took all the love we had for her with her. These moments I think back on, and I cherish knowing I will never hear her say a simple I love you as I walk passed her.

6 months and the final goodbye

The morning of may 13,2020 was one of the hardest days anyone can go through. Waking up to a phone call saying “it’s time, we don’t think she will make it the rest of the day.” So even though you want to curl up into a ball of security under your warm comfortable blankets you push them off of you get your butt out of bed and force yourself to get dressed, you put one foot in front of the other as you get in the car and drive in a daze to your destination to be with your mom as she gets ready to take her last breath. It was 6 months ago and I still remember the phone call, I remember every word I said to her as she began to slip from this world, I couldn’t hold her hand, or give her a kiss, a window separated us from each other.

It’s been as if I’m living in an alternate reality since that day. I can still hear her voice in my head telling me every chance she got that she loved me. I know I said my goodbye to her then, but today, today is the day we take what we have left of her and place them beside her best friend and sister for all eternity, their final resting place, and if I’m being completely honest I just don’t know if I’m ready. You see I’ve thought about this day ever since she her heart stopped, and it’s not going the way I had hoped it would. Then again it won’t stop me from once again putting one foot in front of the other, placing her ashes next to her sister and saying my final goodbye to woman who spent 31 years raising me, loving me, and being my biggest support, she was the one I cried to, the one who told me everything will be okay when my life felt as though it was in complete shambles. So today I will take a breath and continue to move forward on this journey of healing.

Getting older

Why do I feel as though the older I get, the more shut down I become just to make it through this thing called life? All that happens when you get older is you come to the realization that not everyone is going to last forever, slowly you start losing people. Your heart breaks over and over, you learn to cry less and less Bc it’s the circle of life, we are born to ultimately die. Everything we do in between, does it really matter? I don’t know. Losing people is never easy and it doesn’t get easier knowing there’s a time limit on everyone. It’s just a matter of when.

Once again the first

I hate when tragedy strikes in the mist of chaos. And you must face the blowing winds alone.

My heart overwhelmed itself, as my birthday approached, I became unaware, forgotten what day it was. And then it hit me as if a semi slammed into my gut. She wasn’t here, she was gone. Tears slipped past my eyes as I faced the new reality without her once again. I held my head though letting the pain fall from my eyes to capture my heartbreak. They were gone now. As I closed my eyes I pictured them there with me as they put their arms around me, I swear I could feel their touch.

They held me for only a moment. Then from my mind they faded. I knew then I could get through this. I felt there love with me. Even though they weren’t there in the flesh they were in my heart forever, and, would always be.

I’m not okay.

If I could have anything I wished for, it would be to go back to a time when everything in my life wasn’t so down, a time when I was truly happy. I want to be okay. I want to be strong. But truth is I’m not okay, and I haven’t been in a long time.

I find myself asking what I did in my life that deserved such a horrible karma such as losing my father and my mother. To have such anxiety and depression that I don’t want to leave the safety of my own bed.

Night time is the worst. I see the image of my father cold and lifeless on a metal table and I touch his hair and tell him this wasn’t suppose to happen. He wasn’t the one I was preparing to say goodbye to.

I see images of my mother weak, bald, and hanging her head in defeat knowing she doesn’t have much time left with her loved ones because the cancer has taken its toll on her. And there I am helpless once again as I watch her take her last breath and I can’t even be next to her touching her, holding her like I so want to.

The only thing I can do is feel the sadness wash over me, paralyzing me from the life I once lived. Continuously worrying about who and how I will lose the next person in my life, and how there is nothing I can do to save them.

So instead of closing my eyes to sleep, I distract myself until my body and mind are to exhausted to function. Or cry until there’s nothing left in me to do but sleep and not dream. Once I wake maybe I’ll feel different, but I don’t. But I have to hold myself together for my children. The only thing I have left that makes life worth living.

By now I should be use to what life has to throw my way, all the ups and the downs. I know I’m not okay, but I so desperately want to be. I want to feel normal again, and functioning. I want to go after my dreams and have hopes again. Instead of feeling constant dread. I’m not okay but I try to be everyday.

Cancer sucks

The thing about grieving is you never truly know when it’s going to hit you. One minute your perfectly fine and the next you are bawling your eyes out over all things you wish you had a chance to do with the person you are missing.

My mother was a huge part of her grandkids lives, and she had a bond with each one of them that was different from the next. She was unbelievably proud of them, and loved them with all her heart. They say each other them were born it was as if her world came more alive, her heart became more full. Fuller then she ever expected it to be.

She made up for the mistakes she made with my brother and I, with our children. When my brother had his boys she was in love with being a Grammy, she wanted to spoil and play with them and the best is helping to raise them, When my son was born and me being young, she also stepped up, on nights I wanted to go out and be with friends she was always there willing to let me go and her take care of him, she was the one that helped me teach jr to take his first steps, she was the one who potty trained him, got him his first pair of roller blades, bike, etc. she was completely entranced by them all. April was her first grand daughter, she was ready for make up parties, dress up, and barbies. And then jubilee came and her world was complete the day she was born. She couldn’t help but hold her hand in the hallway, and touch her face in awe of her beauty.

She was so much that words can’t even fully grasp how much she truly meant to her family.

I cry, for the mother I lost, but my heart shatters for my children and niece and nephews for the Grammy they lost. The nights where the loss hits my son and he comes crying to me, telling me he wishes he could of gotten to watch all the shows he was suppose to with Grammy, or the song that makes him realize how much he wanted her to hold on and not leave him so soon. Those nights that all I can do is hold him while his heart breaks again for the person he misses.

Life isn’t normal anymore, that’s the biggest part of grief no one truly tells you about. Life continues to go on, and your expected to keep moving with it. When your world is completely different. You can adjust over time but it will never be normal again. Not when you won’t be able to hear that person’s voice, see their smile, hear their laugh again in person.

Grief is an ugly part of life. Losing a part of you with each person that passes.

My mother use to tell me I couldn’t have more than one best friend, and I always told her she was wrong. Truth is though, she never knew she was my best friend. She was my person that I wanted to tell everything to, my advice giver, my protector, my rock. I cried, she’d cry. My heart broke, her heart broke. And now I must do the same for my children.

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