I'm trying to figure out what it is I'm thinking. My dear mother passed away just over 2 weeks ago. What's more; she is gone because she chose to go. So, now we're left to deal with that. It has been anything but easy. I consider myself to be emotionally strong; able to handle all kinds of difficult situations. However, I'm coming to grips with the fact that I just don't have the tools to deal with this one. I guess I need to find a good tool store.
Today was an OK day, meaning, I didn't cry. I'm not very happy, but I managed one or two half-smiles, I think. And I worked a full day, though I doubt it was as productive as it could have been. Yesterday, however, was one of my worst days yet, following the my mother's passing. How does it feel? It seems impossible to describe; I've not before gone through some of the emotions I'm now experiencing. I feel completely lost. I'm feeling things, but I don't know what to do with those feelings, which also makes me just numb. I'm in a fog, knowing not which way is up, or which way is down. There is a constant sadness that my mom is dead. (And can I just say I HATE hearing myself say the words "my mom is dead?") I definitely feel that a big piece of me is totally gone. There is now an emptiness in my heart. Not empty, entirely; I still have many things I love, thank God. But the emptiness or hollowness is palpable, most of the time.
...Days later...
Well, I'm just sort of going through the motions, still. I definitely need help getting through this; not so much for the immediate present, but for the hard times that will inevitably come in the future. I went up to my school on Friday, to see about getting some grief counseling. (Or any counseling; whatever they recommend for a son who lost their mother to suicide.) They had to schedule my first appointment for a week later so, I'll see the therapist this coming Thursday. I'm looking forward to it; I just feel like I need some direction in dealing with this and I am incapable of figuring it out myself.
You know, I had become accustomed to being at my parents' home, but not actually seeing or visiting with my mother. Often, in the past few years, she'd stay in her room, lying in bed, or being fast asleep during the middle of the day. This is causing me, what I view is more trouble now. I don't think I'm dealing with what is reality. I mean, I saw my mom's body that day. I saw the medical examiner take her away. I saw her lying in a casket, in which she was to be buried. I spoke at her funeral and I carried her casket to her final resting place. Yet, I haven't accepted that she's actually dead. The fact that she isn't just lying in her room, asleep, has not yet become my reality. To me, when I'm out visiting with Dad, or just driving by, Mom is probably just in her room, having a bad day, or a sick day, or just tired and asleep. But that's not the case, is it? Oh, I cried some good tears on that day, and the following days. My emotions were raw, as they should be. But now, that it actually counts, and now that it's really real, it's not real at all. And if that is how I feel, how can I ever really mourn the loss of my mom? How can I heal my broken heart? How can I deal with the fact that she left us because she wanted to leave this cruel world, which included me? This is definitely going to require the help of a/some professional(s).
I worry about the rest of the family, that they may not get the help they need for this traumatic experience and loss. I worry about my dad, who found Mom that day. He's on the road plenty with work. In a way, keeping busy is helpful. On the other hand, the more he has his mind preoccupied, the more he may begin to think, "Ah, I've got this; I don't need any help; I'll be OK." I am very much pro-therapy. I really tried to stress to my dad and siblings NOT to play tough guy with this; this will not simply disappear. It needs to be dealt with in a healthy way, and with help from the experts.
Oh, what a long road lies ahead.
A DAY LATER...
Not a horrible day. One thing which keeps become more and more clear; If you think you know who your friends are, and that you know who cares about you, wait until something tragic happens when you need them; you'll definitely realize who your friends are, and who your friends aren't, and never were. OK, maybe that's the last time I'll mention this. Maybe.
Today, we hung out at my dad's house, while he visited with a woman who is hooking him up with a grave marker. My little sister and brother were there, too. I definitely like hanging out with them. It's comforting to have us all there, together. My dad and sister had placed a solar powered, lighted flower at Mom's grave earlier. Tonight, Jericho and I stopped down there to see it. I struggle to get in touch with my true feelings. I keep feeling like I need to talk to my mom, but can't bring myself to do it. Maybe I'm afraid of what I'll say; maybe I'm afraid to feel her presence; that it won't be her, physically. That will make it all pretty real, won't it? I probably wouldn't have stopped if Jericho hadn't been with me. It's comforting to have him there with me. Instead of trying to talk with Mom, or to feel her presence, I avoided it altogether by talking with Jericho and telling him how that flower is Grandma; that this is one of her houses now; that she lives with Jesus.
I miss my mom. I'm in pain about it tonight. I guess that's a good thing.
I belong to a club that no one should ever try to belong to. I guess though, it's a positive thing to know I'm not alone; other people have survived this so I should be able to as well.
