Tag: grief

Some Things 5/2

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1) It’s so hard to tell the difference between “I’m balding and I like naps” and hypothyroidism. Like yeah, OK, I guess you could describe me as “tired, lethargic, and losing hair.” I’m literally balding, and lazy though. So like, I don’t know. Give me more thyroid hormones. Sure, I’ll come back and let you test me again in a month. Why not?

2) Tomorrow, I have a skype interview for a configuration management (CM) position. It’s with the same company. They just really need a CM person and my software boss knows I have experience in both so she said I should apply and I could maybe do half and half. Well, as long as the pay is the same, I’m in! I’ve stayed the software route because it has higher earning potential long term. However, I’m happy with my currently salary. So if they can match it in CM, bring it on. I can do all the paperwork you bitches want. And I’m so unhappy with how uncertain I am with the job right now. I’m so out of my element. It’d be nice to have some easy wins.

3) In the past two weeks, I’ve seen my psychiatrist, my plastic surgeon, my primary care doctor, and my neurologist. Does it count that I had to go by Jack’s vet to get his meds today too? So much time shuffling!

4) My sister is mad at me. She wanted access to moms Facebook and it locked her out. She was accessing it through moms old phone that she never should have had access to as it belonged to me and I had specified it be given to my other sister who needed a new phone as that’s what mom would have wanted. Other sister never got the phone. Sister1 kept it and has been using it to access her Facebook and pictures and I’m sure her private messages too. So…

Facebook locked her out. So she tried to recover the password with moms email that she’s also been accessing. But gmail locked her out. So she contacted me. I’m the recovery email for all of moms accounts. Why? Because I would set shit up for her when she asked, not give her shit or half jail-broken hand-me-down-equipment, and not berate her when she forgot her passwords. (Hence the reason the phone was MY property. I bought the phone and I paid the phone bill.) Anyway, Sister1 contacts me because I’m the recovery email and she “needs” access to moms Facebook.

I wouldn’t give it to her. I say that like I’m confident about it. First, I asked Mr C- holy shit what do I do? I don’t want her to have access, she has no right. And it’s weird. And invasive. And mom died over a year ago. Then I asked K. Then I asked moms bestest best friend. All informed me that I didn’t have to give her that info. In fact, moms bestie informed me that she hoped Sister1 hadn’t read moms private messages where she often poured out her heart and frustrations about living with my sisters to her best friends in confidence.

Well… I’ll bet you a million dollars sister1 has read all of that. All the text messages. All the emails. All the Facebook messages. She’s seen my mom describe her in her worst light. And I can’t imagine the unbearable pain that must have brought her. It explains a lot though. She’s been absolutely obsessed with mom since she passed. Moms hobbies have become sister1’s obsessions. She can’t and won’t let mom go. So hearing me tell her I wouldn’t reset the accounts kinda pissed her off.

To ensure that I held to moms honor and let her accounts be silenced, I went as far as to disconnect my email from her recoveries. Her accounts are now lost to the ether. It was like saying goodbye again. Letting the flowers drift into the ocean. Google asked if I wanted to disconnect ME@gmail.com from MOM@gmail.com as this was permanent and could not be undone. Well… I cried and I clicked it. Bye momma.

Not that Sister1 would accept that I can no longer rest the accounts. She became furious and said that I should never have made my self the recovery account if I wasn’t willing to recover them. She said she needed important financial information because she’d be left to deal with all of moms accounts.

Well, what the fuck kind of financial information do you need off of Facebook? And mom died over a year ago. I told her I’d be happy to handle any of mothers personal affairs that they had not just been left to her. She could forward me any correspondence and I’d get a copy of her death certificate from brother and take care of it. No responses after that.

All of the family has been their usual radio silence. No answering the phone or text messages. Oh well.

I do feel terrible for Sister1. Realizing she probably read mom talking shit about her and how much she hated living with her. God, that’s heart breaking. But sister1 brought it on herself by invading moms privacy. And I feel terrible that sister1 has now kinda become sister2s custodian. I do feel bad about that. But again, she let sister2 move in. Sister 2 tried to get me and Mr C to take in her cats. We said fuck no. Sister1 is more codependent and took her in. And it was only supposed to be 2 months… over 2 years ago. I’m sorry sister1. I really am. but I still won’t help you violate moms privacy over and over again.

It’s a terrible situation.

Easter

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It’s Easter. This holiday is a bit sad for me. Obviously, I miss mom. I haven’t decorated for Easter since she died. That’s two Easters. She just got so into Easter. She decorated like crazy. She loved getting everyone their favorite candies. She was all about weird flavors too.

She loved the flavored M&Ms. I remember the year they had carrot cake M&Ms. She was so excited for me to try one and guess the flavor. And one year she got us all different flavors of Jelly Bellys. I got peas and carrots because I love peas and carrots. The jelly beans were fruit flavored, don’t worry, they were just shaped like peas and carrots. She mailed them to me. The day they arrived she made sure I went to the mail box. She said she’d mailed me fresh peas and carrots to cook. She actually convinced me they were gonna be real peas and carrots in my mailbox. Ha.

I miss her so much. My Easter Bunny died.

Christmas is coming

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For those who don’t know, mom died last Christmas day. Now.

We’re putting up the Christmas decorations. I need to get everything ready before my surgery. Getting moms room done was easy. I didn’t take down her tree last year, I just shoved it in her closet. So All I did was get it out, change out the blankets and pillows and get a few more things from her closet. Easy-peasy. And I actually liked seeing it back the way she left it.

Last night we did one of the Christmas trees. The living room tree. And it sucked ass. She gave me like a third of the ornaments on there (if not more). The cat ball. The jelly fish the year I was a jelly fish for Halloween (she was so proud of that one, perfect find). Even the ones she didn’t give me, I remember showing her proudly or picking out with her. She’s always been around when we do the Christmas tree. Mostly she’s usually here as we put it up. Even if not, I’m always excited to tell her about it and for her to see it when she visits. We always go to at least one Christmas market and pick out a new ornaments each year.

The nativity wasn’t bad even though she’s given me pieces of it. She was so proud one year to give me the very coveted shepherd and camel set. I guess it wasn’t bad because she got to see it hit peak glory last year. I built a creche for it and we had a sideboard in the dining room for it. It spreads out beautifully. I’ve got it lit with LEDs. I added the beautiful mercury glass trees she gave me. I adore it. I don’t know of a more beautiful nativity that anyone else owns.

So mom saw that and that pleases me. I guess that’s why her room was the same. She knew what it looked like. She was super proud of the ribbon window swag I made her for her bedroom window. She told me exactly what she wanted and supervised the whole thing. I only added one thing: A beautiful cardinal that I know she would have loved.

There’s two more important boxes to go grab and decorate with. One of them being breakables and one being soft things. Soft things like Christmas stockings. Like moms Christmas stocking. What the fuck do I do with her Christmas stocking?

I’d lay it on her bed, but my sister-in-law will be staying in there while I recuperate from surgery and she’s very emotional. But I don’t want to just leave it boxed up. I don’t want her to be gone. She can’t be gone.

*Tears up* So it’s just been easier to lay here on the couch and not go get that box.

Attack of the Anxieties

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I’ve been known to have anxiety and panic attacks. I take medication for it. Valium, to be specific. One of my friends was amazed at how much valium I take, but I used to be agoraphobic, okay? I’m basically brought to you by psychiatric drugs.

Anyway, today I had a total anxiety attack. It started at work and I knew it was coming on hard so I peaced the fuck out. I teared up a bit in the car and came home to give my sweet husband the hug I needed. He asked what was wrong and I was like I just needed to hug you and the cat. And when I started blabbering the huge amalgamation of what was wrong, one thing stood out more than the rest: mom.

Last night we discussed Mr C’s work trip coming up. Well, mom always visited when Mr C went on work trips. Mom always felt like she was going to be a burden so she was insanely careful not to step on toes. However, when Mr C went away for work, she knew she would be doing me a favor by visiting. I get to spend time with her, she cooks me delicious dinners that Mr C doesn’t like (hello, meatloaf and hamburger steak and canned corned beef sandwiches), and there’s no way she could be bothering Mr C. So she always came up for his work trips. And he’s going on a work trip. And moms not coming.

Of course, Mr C told his sobbing wife that he could cancel. However, him going on a trip isn’t a problem. And of course I could ask a friend (especially K) to come stay with me — but it’s not about having to stay by myself. It’s not him being gone or me being lonely, it’s mom not being here. He’s going to go away and It’ll just be… me. Without momma. We always loved hanging out together when it was just us. Like a little vacation. No more mom. No more little vacations while Mr C is gone. No more momma.

And to make things even more awkward — the day Mr C comes back is the day his parents will be coming to spend the night — on my sweet mommas birthday. Her first birthday when she’s not here. And when I feel like I should be mourning not having my mom — or maybe making a special treat in honor of mom (hello pumpkin cream cheese muffins), I’m going to be celebrating my in laws. It’s going to feel a bit blasphemous. So is Christmas. Christmas in any form will feel blasphemous. She died on Christmas Day. This year is Christmas with the in laws. Ugh. But at some point I’m going to have to suck it up and embrace Christmas again. Just wish it wouldn’t be so soon. Mom LOVED some holidays. So not going all out for the holidays would be a disgrace to her memory.

That said, I did put up Norbert the dragon for Halloween, but I won’t be decorating the inside. I just don’t feel it. I doubt I’ll feel Christmas either.

*sigh* (again, I actually took a deep sign before I typed that).

I do have a lot of anxieties going on right now. Everything running the gauntlet of petty: what if I can’t take the pain of my tattoo and I wuss out? To what if I can’t take the stomach surgery? What if it gets infected or I get botched or I DIE? I’m interviewing for new jobs — two interviews this week. Mr C’s in a hole of despair hating his own job. Work sucks, obviously, for both of us. The lawsuit from my injury is finally coming up and we calculated that if we win the MAXIMUM we can ask, we won’t make enough to cover one of the plastic surgeries — much less a small fraction of what I lost in wages. Not even the gap in the pay cut I took for this new contract. We are not making it out well, and that’s if we win the max. Thank God the lawyer only gets paid by how much we win. And I’ve got a house guest. So I’m anxious about is the house clean enough — does the bedding smell bad? Am I too in her face? I don’t wanna be invasive.

Oh and one of the new friends that had best friend potential — yeah turns out not so much. She supports some things I just can’t look past. I’m so damn judgemental. This is why I only have three true friend peeps.

Anyway, I got out before I cried at work. I came home and hugged my sweetie (the husband, not the cat) and bawled about mom — or more accurately, the lack of mom. Then I took a nap with my cat. Now I’m cathartically writing it all out. Then I’m going to the circus. Yep. But the people kind, not the animal kind. Cheers!

Dear Mom,

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This photo was in my memories yesterday. Just one year ago. Wow. How could it just be one year? Look at my innocent little self. We have pool hair because it wasn’t so cool last year. We were painting modpodge pumpkins from a coloring book. One of us found the coloring book and I cut them out and stuck them on canvases for us to paint. The other canvases are still leaning against the wall behind the curtain where you put them. Look at us just having fun doing nonsense. And I was fresh and new in my job so I didn’t realize what a shit show it was yet! Ah, innocence.

It seems like years ago. Has the world turned over so much in just a single year? Nay, just 9 months. Damn.

I can’t stop looking at this photo. Just a year ago… Man I miss you. I put up Norbert yesterday and I couldn’t quite figure out where to put him just right. Last year we argued that I wanted him closer to the road and you wanted him closer to the house. So of course he had to go exactly where you said he should go again this year. But where was it exactly? A little more that way? It was a struggle. Today I found the Casper the Ghost Halloween mask you sewed me. Heh. It some how was in my normal non-holiday mask pile that I just washed and ironed.

I miss you so much.

There’s so much to tell you! Isn’t this weather crazy? So cool. I hope we have a long Fall. I got an appointment to get my goomba tattoo! You knew I wanted a sleeve but you didn’t know about the goomba. I know you’re not a fan of tattoos, But I also know you’d have blessed the goomba. I can just hear you saying that its so ME. It is, isn’t it? I’m super excited. Wish you could come along and you and K could take a picture of me getting it and then explore Nashville while they finish it up.

We’re gonna consult about the sleeve I want too. I really want Megan Massacre to do the portrait part and then have Devon Greig do the whole rest of the sleeve. They’re both amazing with color – I did my research. Jack is the center piece. Of course. My precious Jack. You didn’t know it, but he’s in stage 3 or 4 kidney failure. Terminal diagnosis, not reversible. Sucks. I feel like if you were here, it wouldn’t be so upsetting losing him. After you died I just couldn’t handle the thought of losing my precious so I actually took him to the vet. I know! He hated it! And it cost like $600. I know! But I had them run him for everything to make sure he was solid. Well, he’s not solid.

Hey while I’m typing this, someone not part of the family, is giving sis1 shit for posting about Covid vaccines. Apparently, we know this person who thinks it’s romantic that their BF came to take care of them with Covid and now they’re in the hospital holding hands and getting treatment together. How romantic! Fucking dumbasses. No one takes this shit seriously and it’s so infuriating. Yeah it only kills a few people. Like you. It killed you. The only death out of the — how many are we up to? $600k yet? Yeah but you.

I get so mad at these anti-vaxxer morons. You’d tell me to shut up. I’m over here stirring the pot and you’d certainly call me and tell me to stop. But you know what, CODA and my therapist tell me that it’s not my responsibility how people hear what I say and how they choose to respond.

Anyway, there’s a whole shit pile of bad I could catch you up on. I mean the world’s gone to shit, Mom! Like absolute shit show dumpster fire over here. But there’s so much good on the horizon that I wish I could talk to you about!

Like the tattoo, so exciting. When better than when I’m coming up on 40? Oh oh oh oh — OH MY GOD. You don’t know WHY I’m finally getting my tattoos! Mom, I’m getting my arms fixed! Mr. C’s totally cool with it. I’m taking all of December off because I’m having my stomach and arms done! It’s going to be amazing. I don’t know how I’ll do it without you here, but I’ll do it. You’d be so excited for me. I’m sure you’d talk down all my worries. Because this is something I’ve wished for and worked so hard for.

And I’m doing CODA every Monday and crossfit three time a week! Can you believe it? I know you can. You’d tell me as you’ve told me before. When I want something, I go at it and I get it. As far as the surgery, I can see you telling me I’m prepared for everything. Like when I surprised you with a shit ton of Aldi bags. Or not surprised you, because as you said then — you know I prepare for everything. Though you still doubt me sometimes. Like you’d have 100% supported me taking today off over my hurting knee. You’d tell me I’m going too hard. But dude, crossfits expensive. I can’t pay that much and not get my moneys worth. And the more fit I am, the better I’ll recover from surgery 🙂 Just two more months.

Miss you, Momma. More than you can imagine.

Some Things 8/15

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1) Yesterday I’m chillin’ in my pool with K3. I’m floating in an egg plant all nice and comfy and then… a motherfucking SNAKE brushed up against my arm! YES! A SNAKE! It was a tiny baby snake. Thankfully, nonpoisonous. I killed that motherfucker with a machete. Not cool, nature, not cool. There was also a tick and a dead mole in the pool. What the fuck? It’s a square of concrete filled with salt water. It’s not a river! Leave my shit alone! I hate nature. IT TOUCHED ME. Ugh. Now I’m gonna be super paranoid about checking every inch of the pool before I get in.

2) Cross fit continues. This week has been a real emotional rollercoaster for me. I’m not 100% sure why, it’s not my monthly cycle or anything. I’ve been in crossfit for a month this week. I’ve done 6 regular classes plus the 4 onboarding classes. But for some reason, Wednesday got to me. After Wednesdays work out I just felt pathetic. I felt embarrassed and ashamed. I wanted to quit. It was runs and barbells and I can’t do the runs (I’m subbing with bike) and I couldn’t get the damn push jerks right to save my life. All while I’m using the training bar and 2.5lb weights and some of these other bitches are slinging like 200lbs! And here I can’t do ANY OF IT. I just felt like I was setting myself up to be humiliated.

I’m working out surrounded by the fittest of the fit, and here my fat ass is in their space. They’re the sharks and I’m in their ocean. I really just felt humiliated and in deep fear of being mocked. I’ve been bullied a lot in my life. I’ve had people make rude comments about my weight even as an adult (down over 100lbs, now though!). So I actually cried about it. And with my monthly subscription coming up this week — I’d have quit if it weren’t for K2 and K3. I have two people supporting me and willing to make sure I never have to work out by myself. I’m blessed to be able to afford this expensive ass gym. I can’t squander this opportunity.

Friday’s workout was better. K3 is super supportive and motivated. She also somehow enjoys working out so she has a great energy. So we finished 3 team rounds of the impossible. I did over 30 burpees! Plus 26lb hang cleans and rowing. Today we did more barbells (hang snatches) and pull ups (I sub ring rows) with K2. So I’m still totally failing at the bar LOL — I just can’t master the moves. I’m thinking so hard about all the little specifics that make up the move that I can’t do it. I’m in my head too much and can’t do the move fast enough to get it all timed right. But I looked up youtube videos beforehand to try and get it worked out. So I’m getting better.

Also one of the youtube videos broke down crossfit as a whole a little bit. They acknowledged how hard it is to be in there with all these athletes slinging mega weights. They discussed how it’s easier to go to a normal gym and feel less judged. But then he discussed how it’s better to learn form these people correctly slinging all that weight so they can teach you how to get there. And to take advantage of your coaches who want to help you get there too. So I asked lot of questions tonight. And I tried to mingle a little more. I even reminded my onboarding coach to put up my intro picture on the website so I can get to know people more. Here’s to another month starting this week! I’ve got my ripstop cream and I’m sitting here recovering with my compression socks on and a compression knee sleeve on my terrible knee and some turkey meatballs. Thanks to my chickas K2 and K3 who have no idea how much they mean to me right this second in my life. I’m so thankful.

3) We spread moms ashes. Part one. She wanted to be spread at the beach and in the mountains. Well, the first week of August is my families yearly vacation to Florida. We’ve got a time share and we’ve done it every year since I was a baby. (Except that now we alternate our vacations each year with my family vs Mr C’s family trip). Florida was moms thing. She loved it. It was her place. She could just sit on the beach all day with her toes in the waves. She slept with the balcony door cracked so she could listen to the waves. She had coffee on the balcony with the sunrise over the ocean.

Being down there without her was beyond difficult. But we did good and we spread her ashes at sunrise. We went to her (well, the whole family’s) favorite breakfast spot and crossed over the a public beach area. With the smell of her favorite apple fritters in the air and the colors of an ocean sunrise, we threw flowers in the water. I hope you loved it, momma. I miss you so so much. *wipes away tear*

Here We Go

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Blarg! I have been avoiding posting for over a week now. In fact, I’ve been avoiding even typing this post for the past 30 minutes with Facebook and Youtube while the blank page stares at me. Ok. Here we go. I gained 10 more pounds.

I’m devastated! I’m heart broken. I’m depressed. I’m panicy. I just want to crawl in bed and die. I want to just throw in the towel. Do you know I haven’t had a bite of mac and cheese in THREE YEARS? I haven’t had a taco in three years. What the fuck am I doing this for!? If I’m gonna gain weight I might as well get some damn tacos.

Now I’m 20 some odd pounds from my goal with an appointment with a plastic surgeon in a month. Finally, I get the chance to have decent arms — arms that can wear tank tops and cute sleeveless dresses or better yet those ones that tie behind your neck and I’m blowing it! What the actual fuck?

I just wanna die and throw in the towel. I’m done. Ugh. To describe this as a “funk” is an understatement.

But I’m married and have a cat so I can’t be done. Dammit.

I’ve got a blood draw tomorrow to check my thyroid again because — again I say: what the actual fuck?

I’ve also been peer pressured into Cross Fit. I know, I’m gonna die. We start tomorrow. God help me. But with this damn weight gain I gotta do something! More details on this whole Cross Fit $300 let’s-do-it campaign later. Not sure how much later because I’ve got the busiest week planned. I never book up my weeks. I’m lazy. But this week I have something EVERY DAY. Two things Monday. Plus a full time job. Three Cross Fit training sessions. One doctors appointment. One Baseball game (of course this will be fun) and then tubing on Saturday. Good thing tubing doesn’t require energy! Unless I fall out of that tube. God help us then. Yall gonna have to help my ass get back in.

Melancholy

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I left work early again today. I just feel so sad. Melancholy. Sorrowful. It’s not all mom. Of course part of it is mom. I miss her dearly. I have so much anxiety and worries running through my head and I need her calmness. I need her “It will work it all out.” I need her to calm me down and say she’ll pray about it.

Monday was a holiday. It was a lazy day. The kind of day where her an I would have lazily floated in the pool. I miss that so much. That time was perfect. Of course I never realized it was perfect but it was. It was a time with just us chatting and relaxing. Telling each other secrets and gossip. And I was providing for her. Be it a day or the weekend, I was providing for her. And I was giving her this private pool to enjoy as much as she wanted. And believe me, she did enjoy it. I’d find her out there on the stairs having coffee when I woke up. If she hadn’t already got on a bathing suit and moved into the tanning ledge or a float.

I miss you, momma. So so much. To say it hurts is superlative.

I do have things im looking forward to. That’s something that leaves me in a depression — when I don’t have things to look forward to. But this time I have a few things to look forward to — but they’re all tainted somehow. Or I fear they won’t come to pass at all.

I’m looking forward to plastic surgery. I might be pretty smokin’ with some tightened up arms and belly and bigger boobs. I’ll be an hourglass for sure — even if it is still an extra large one. The fact that my husband is letting me pay for this and take the time off to do it is amazing! But rather than being grateful, I worry. What if my recent weight gain takes that off the table? How will my recovery be? Will my husband be able to step up to help me enough? With pain meds, bringing me drinks and food, helping me get up and around, washing my hair for me, taking care of the cat. How can I take care of Jack right after ive been gutted? Momma always always took care of me in recoveries. Even since I’ve been married. She’d just come up here to stay. It’s hard for me to trust. I worry.

I’m looking forward to Florida. The family trip my side of the family always takes. However, this one is obvious. Florida is MOMS THING. It’s what she loved. Sitting on the beach all day with the waves of the gulf washing over her feet. Lazily dripping sand into elaborate spires next to her chair. Having coffee at 6am on the balcony listening to the crashing waves. This year we’ll all be going at least one last time all together. For mom. She wanted some of her ashes spread there. In the ocean. And she’d want us to go. She always wanted us to go. Even when I felt like I ruined it. I turn into such a bitch around my sisters. It’s the codependent family structure. I fall right back into it when I’m with them. Then we all bitch to mom and she screams that she cant take it anymore. And I feel like they’d have a better vacation without me there. So yeah, cloud over that one. But I have to go. For mom.

October. This one’s odd. So it’s the year to spend Thanksgiving with my family. However, Mr C’s parent’s are celebrating in October — so sweet, we can do both families, right? Well. Mr C’s parents, in a fashion so very typical of them, just assumed none of us “kids” were coming. So I was chatting with my mother-in-law the other day (remember, I was all sad about mom and no one would return my calls? You know none of my family has yet to return any of the calls, BTW). Yeah I was talking to her and she mentioned that they’d be stopping by our house on their great road trip right before heading up to the thanksgiving festivities. So I confirmed that we’d be leaving to follow them. This was news to her! She thought we weren’t coming! She was super excited that we were. She informed me that Thanksgiving dinner with the N’s was canceled and gave me the run down of the new plans.

So after talking with her, I called Mr C’s brother. He has legitimately no excuse in the world to miss Thanksgiving. So I called to see why he wasn’t coming. That was news to him. He thought he WAS coming. Mr C’s sister — same thing! We were all planning on going but the parents just assumed we weren’t for some weird reason they’re calling a miscommunication but I’m calling bullshit. So since no “kids” were coming, the adults scrapped thanksgiving dinner at the N’s for a fall trip. Now they’re going to North Carolina to ride a train through the mountains. Sounds nice enough. So we conspired and decided we’d join. Then I did more research.

The parents are staying in a very overpriced lodge. Thats cool, cause my sister-in-law found us a cheap air BnB less than a mile away. Awesome! So I looked into this “dinner or lunch train.” Well, one: there’s no dinner or lunch. It’s just a 4.5 hour train ride. You can get a boxed lunch of a sandwich and chips. But I’m keto, I can’t eat the sandwich or the chips! Oh and those sweet antique steam dinner train vibes — nope. Only available in November and December. We’re riding a plain old commuter style train. It’s not even steam! So now I’m riding a foodless amtrak to nowhere as the main part of my trip. AWESOME. We’re only driving 4.5 hours hours both way for this privilege. Buy hey, good meals with family are worth it, right? Well, on the train we won’t all be together. Because it’s not a dining train. And dinners? there’s no where to eat dinner in the town we’re staying in or the town with the train! They’re shit towns, I looked! Fuck me, this trip sounds terrible. We’re all pretty mad they canceled dinner and games at the N’s but we didn’t realize the extent of this thing.

Then there’s my sweet tattoo. I can’t get it if I don’t get my arms done so there’s one worry. Also all the good artists are in LA or New York! I can’t get anyone to reply to my inquiries. And if I travel to one of these artists, can we do it in one go? Don’t they have to do it in stages? I can’t travel to New York 3 times! And who’s gonna take care of my precious Jack? That goes for all of these trips (except Florida when K is gonna house sit. Thats why K’s getting the sweet ass home warming present. Not the Dragon of Scams, though. He’s currently a deflating trophy in the garage). But it might not matter, because none of the artists have replied to my inquiries.

So. Yeah. I’m whiny. I told you I was melancholy. But I don’t really have anyone to whine to, so I’m doing it here. My blog, my therapist. I find myself lonely. I miss mom so much.

I’m here anytime you need to talk. Except when you need to talk.

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Got a text from sister1 today. Apparently sister2 had a breakdown and spent hours telling her how she had backslid into drinking a ton and depression and she was not doing okay over moms death. We all kinda knew that (When I sat in moms bedroom chair and looked to see what she had been reading, I assumed the hard liquor wasn’t hers), but she hadn’t admitted any of it. So sister1 wanted us to be mindful and reach out and let sister2 know we love her and not tell her we know kinda way.

In this same text message thread, sister3 mentioned she cried to nephew2 about mom just this weekend. Well, fuck I was talking just yesterday to nephew2 online and told him I was super upset about moms death too. So I was like, I’ll call sister3! She ignored my call, yall. You know how you click someone off and it goes to voicemail early ’cause you clicked them off. Uhuh. So okay, I’ll call sister2. She cuts me off too with the auto text “can’t talk right now.” She ALWAYS does this. She did it to mom all the time too. So no big surprise. Okay… I’ll call sister1. No answer. FUCK ME. So I call my mother-in-law cause she loves to talk. No answer (she’s most likely working and not ignoring me. She LOVES when I call). Yall have got to be kidding me!

So I called nephew1 and chatted a while. I wanted to talk about mom but I did not. I just talked to him about what was going on with him and his life. It was still good to talk to someone. And I left work early cause I was upsetty.

INTERMISSION: Hey I told Mr C when I got home super early: “I quit! … for the day.” Haha, he had one of those mini heart attacks.

Anyway, what the fuck? Everyone’s all “I’m here for you.” Except when you actually need to talk to someone and then no one will pick up the god damned phone. It’s been hours and no return calls either. And in the text thread where sister3 mentioned crying about it this weekend, she was like “I’m glad we all still think of her.” Again I say to you: what the fuck? Like no, I moved on. I don’t give a shit that my mom died on Christmas. I hardly think of it. Certainly not EVERY FUCKING DAY. What a shitty support net I have.

AND NOW, THIS…

God, that mug humored me so much when I saw it earlier in my Facebook Feed. “Bitch, I will put you in a trunk and help people look for you.” That’s good. I’ve never heard that. They had so many good ones too. (The picture links to Piper & Lou who sell these epic mugs.)

Missing Mom

Posted on | by cursingcats.com | Leave a Comment on Missing Mom

I tried to make myself a little less of a potato of depression and anxiety today. I got in the pool. But it just made me miss mom. I miss her insanely dark skin that smelled like Nivea. I miss talking about life while we floated in the pool. I miss joking about her flip flop tan lines she was trying to even out. I miss fetching her peanut butter crackers and peach wine while she sat on the tanning ledge. She should be there on the tanning ledge while I cool off inside. But she’s not. She won’t ever be again.