Tag: #bloggerstribe

I’m not really sure why I am subjecting myself to such pain today…

I woke around 4am this morning. I laid in bed staring at the ceiling. My mind had turned on way before I opened my eyes. There were a million things running through my head…I need to do some laundry, look for a new washer and dryer, look for a new fridge, figure out what I wanted to put on the wall in the hallway. I have about 12 craft projects laying in the corners of my living room, bedroom and office. I need to finish them. I need some organization. And then boom…my Mom was the most organized person I know. I hear her in my ear, “plan for what you want, not what you think is going to occur.” She was a wise silly woman. But when she spoke even if I didn’t understand, I listened. I was always sure I’d need the advice one day.

When I’m super anxious, I get in cleaning mode. This is the time that I can throw away almost anything with no remorse. The goal is to make things tidy. Tidy equates to calm in my world. Everything has a place. Or in my mind it does.

I got out of bed, went in the bathroom and just sat. It’s dark all through my house. The kids are still asleep, as well as the dog. I’m the only thing moving besides the flame of the candle that’s been burning for at least 2 days now on my dresser.

I look out of the bathroom into my bedroom and I see the box on the floor beside my resting chair. It holds pictures that I got from my Mom’s place. The last time I opened the box, my brother struggled to get me to my bed. I was crying uncontrollably and just an all out mess. I miss her, I don’t know how to cope and all I do is cry. I don’t know how to heal this pain. Losing someone so close, someone they I’ve known all my life hurts like no other pain I’ve ever experienced. And I thought before this that I generally dealt with pain in a positive way.

Still staring at the box, I walk into my room with only the bathroom light illuminating a small portion of my bedroom. I sit on the floor and slide the box in front of me. I hear a voice in my head saying, “you can do this”…but the shaking of my hands and the tears already streaming down my face silently implies, “girl, no the fuck you cannot!” Against my better judgement. I open the box. To my surprise it didn’t start out bad. Probably because I hadn’t come across a picture of her yet. I smile and reminisce on times where I think I may have been happy. And I was probably only partially happy because I was a child.

This shit sucks. I pick up a picture from my 5th birthday. My Mom threw me the biggest backyard party. Invited the whole town I’m sure. Birthdays were her thing. Celebrate life was her motto. Love for today because ain’t shit promised tomorrow was her daily mantra. Optimism…I got that from her. No matter how shitty her life was, no matter how much she cried she was always certain that tomorrow would be better.

I go through all the pictures and decide maybe it is time I go through her things as I prepare to relocate. The plan is to Airbnb or rent out my house while I find a permanent residence for my family. I need some storage space for personal things so I don’t know why the fuck I decided now or today was the perfect day to do this. I’m on vacation until November 1st. I could have picked any other day. But once I start, I can’t stop.

I make a cup of coffee because I get the feeling, it’s going to be a long day. I make my bed, put on a load of laundry and get ready for yoga class. After yoga, I have a guided meditation class and then I will get back to whatever the fuck I think I need to do. As I walk up the stairs, I think to myself this is dumb. My phone rings, so I go back downstairs to see who’s calling. I don’t think I’ll be in the mood to talk much today. I take the call from my bank…if it’s not one thing it’s another but this was not a bad call. I hung up feeling a tad bit successful.

I’m pouring all my money into getting out of this marriage so that I can move on with my life. Everything I want to do is literally on hold at this moment. I’ve lost a job, I can’t buy another home, I can’t sell this one, I can’t start my business, I can’t buy another car, I can’t open any new lines of credit. I am a sitting duck. On top of paying my lawyer, I’m now paying a PI to locate this sick son of a bitch just so that he can be served. I went from almost having my divorce finalized to starting the fuck all back over. I’ve never been more ready to put this man on a t-shirt…

I once again head back upstairs now that I’ve missed yoga, to see if I can catch morning meditation. I open the blinds, I light my candle and I pull out my floor pillow. I don’t want to do this. I sit in the floor and I cry. Why? Because I am emotionally, physically and mentally tired. I need a break, before I break.

I look at the closet and I get up. Inside this closet there is a huge box of my Mom’s things. I get the idea to go through it. To purge and donate. I feel a ball forming in the pit of my stomach. My throat swells as if I swallowed a rock and I open the closet door. The first thing I see is my Mom’s Bible. She was no devout Christian but she too was just spiritual. Believing that churches were businesses and God existed everywhere. She questioned a lot of what was in the Bible as she was just as curious as I am and often times had nothing to do but read. I remember her telling me she had read the Bible 3 times…forward and backward. And each time the book made less and less sense to her.

I think, what if the roles were reversed? What would my Mom do if I was the one who transitioned from this Earthly realm and she was left here to carry on about life. Would she be me? Would she sit crying for hours until her face and eyes were sore? Would she avoid at all cost the people and things they reminded her of me? How the fuck would she handle this. And all I hear is life goes on baby girl. She was the strongest woman I have ever known. She wasn’t perfect but we were placed together here for a reason. We formed a bond unlike any other Mother and Daughter I know. We went about life as if we were the one ones in it. Meaning we could not careless about what people thought of us or what they said. Nothing but wonderful memories flood my mind and I cry even more.

Do you know what I’d give just to hear my Mom’s voice? Hold her hand? See her face in person? Do you know how empty and alone I feel even when I’m surrounded by a ton of people? Do you know how small I feel in this big wide world?

This life…it’s very confusing. I don’t regret any experience I’ve been through as it has shaped and molded me into the person I am today. And no matter how much negative shit comes my way, I still try to find the positive in it. But this one I can’t let loose. I can’t shake it. And it hits me. I will never know what happened to my Mom. It’s not just the fact that she’s gone but it’s more that I feel bad for not being there. I always felt like I was her super hero child. I was always there to save the day. To wipe her tears, to cry with her, to hold her and tell her everything would be ok. And once we were able to laugh, she’d tell me that I think I’m the Mom and she’s the child. And I’d reply telling her that wasn’t true. But that she did her best raising me and the only thing I have left to do is to care for her to show my appreciation. Ending my speech with I only have one Mother and I want to make sure she’s well taken care of, protected and loved until I can no more. She said I was a walking Hallmark Card.

Bits and pieces of that “girl” are gone. They left when I buried part of my heart. I’m thankful she’s no longer in pain and suffering at the hands of shitty ass healthcare workers who want nothing more than a check and to sit on their lazy asses. She doesn’t have the chaos of this world to deal with anymore. She’s at perfect peace. Probably somewhere trying to tell some other soul how to be a proper soul. Lol.

Today I miss her because I’m really letting pieces of her go. Tuesday will be 7 months…usually a day or so before I get in this place. This month it’s much earlier. This month it’s a little harder. My son turns 5 on Monday. My paternal grandfather passed away unexpectedly on October 26th, 4 years ago…it’s just a lot going on this week and emotionally I don’t know that I can handle it.

I struggled to type this. But it was something I felt I needed to do to release these emotions. Im reminded that I put my app creation on pause when I really need to get it finished. I have no motivation and I feel stuck. What would she do? If I was to talk to her what would she say? I had to stop going through her things to just sit and think.

I’m so tired of this life…this pain…this torture. I need a ray of sunlight to bring me some happiness and peace. I’m not looking for a lot…I’m not even looking for more money. I just want to smile and genuinely be happy again. I’m not happy here no matter what I do. I opt to not go through the box today. It’s not time. And mentally I can’t handle it. The little boy keeps running to sit with me while I cry so I have to do something else.

I guess I will find somewhere else to cry. I’ve worn out crying in front of the closet holding her Bible…

Mom, 
I miss you today more than ever. I want nothing more than to talk about your only grandson’s upcoming birthday. I want to tell you not to buy him a bunch of stuff that he will tear up. I want to hear you laugh and make jokes. I want to hear what you’re cooking and bets on whose will be better. I want to tell you what has me afraid right now. I want to tell you all the business ideas I have. I want you to spend the night with me to make me watch scary movies with you. I want to just sit outside with you and listen to nature. I want to walk with you. I want to hug you. I want to tell you I love you one more time and kiss your forehead. This isn’t the life I imagined, but the one I’m given. I don’t know how to move forward. I don’t know how to find my motivation or my way. I want to send these children to you because they are driving me insane. I have no support. You were it. I feel like I have absolutely nothing to get up and look forward to most days. And I know this is when you’d be ready to slap me. But even now, I’d welcome that. I’m going to get it together. I don’t know when or how but I know you won’t let me stay in this place, isolated from the outside world and everything. But right now I miss you and I don’t know how to do anything else. I won’t say Rest In Peace or anything like that but enjoy the afterlife and all it has to offer because you suffered here far too long. I’m going to get it together, I promise. 

Always Your Daughter,
XOXOXO