Between Sleep and Awake

So this morning, after an okay night's sleep -- I woke up, wide awake around 5:30am.

And instead of trying to fall back asleep, I stayed up, surfed the web, until about 8:30am.

Then I decided that I would go back to sleep for another few hours. It was one of those "quickly fall back asleep, but you aren't in deep sleep" sleeps. Those are always when I have the most memorable and active dreams though.

And this time -- I dreamed of my mom. We were going through the drawer in her bookshelf, where she kept a bunch of keepsakes (in the dream, she kept pulling out vintage flags, though that's definitely not what is kept there). And we were remembering everything about what she was finding in there. It was also weird because I got the sense that she had already passed away... but this was like her "last hurrah" to get things organized and in place before she "left". It's odd to type that out, but in the dream it made sense (as most things in dreams do).

At the tail end of a weekend that was hard, and I missed her to bad it ripped my heart out -- it really made me smile, and gave me some peace this morning.

I remember it all, mom.

Thank you for that.

Love you forever.

All By Myself

The last few days I have felt an overwhelming sense of loneliness.
In fact, it's what woke me up at 4:45 this morning, and now 2 hours later, is what is keeping me awake.

I talked to my brother last night -- the first time we had spoken in about 2 weeks, and since Mother's Day. And while he filled me in on his job, and gave me encouragement on my job search (you have no idea how great it felt to hear "I believe in you" from him), he didn't bring up or talk about our mom at all. AT ALL. I almost wanted to bring her up and ask how he's doing, to confess that I'm not doing ok, that I think about it all the time and miss her so much. But then thought about how blasé he acted before Mother's Day, like he wasn't even going to do acknowledge her.

And maybe he did. And I should have asked. But I was so hurt before, I didn't want to be dragged down again. Especially in my current state.

I just feel like I'm the only one that is grieving my mom.

And I know -- I KNOW -- that is not true, but that is how it really feels. No one talks about her, no one asks me about her. And maybe it's because they are wary of bringing her up, like I'm going to get upset and cry and not want to talk about her. But it's really just the opposite. I feel like no one remembers her. And that's what is the hardest part.

And then there is the problem that I don't feel like I have anyone to talk to about it. There is only so much I feel comfortable laying down in front of my friends these days... they have already done so much, I don't want to feel like a burden.

The only person that I want to tell all of this to is the guy that I stopped seeing (ok, we really did "break up" regardless of our actual relationship status) in August, right before I went back to take care of my mom. But he didn't want the same things I did, so I did what was best for me and my heart and broke it off with him after 2 1/2 years together, almost 10 years of friendship. I saw him when I got back, and he was great about listening to me talk about my mom's death... but then he still tried to come home with me, like things had changed. And when I told him he couldn't stay over, he left, and I've heard nothing from him since. So in addition to losing my mom, I feel like I've lost him too (even if I never really "had" him).

Then there's work. Honestly, I was way too devoted to my work. Maybe not my last job, but the one I had for 10 years was definitely a part of me, for better or for worse. So when that company closed, I felt like a part of me had died. As lame as it sounds, part of my identity had closed with the company. I was never really able to shake it. And then just when I thought, "Hey, maybe I can do this again" -- my mom got sick, and I just couldn't.

So now, looking for a job, is adding to the loneliness. There is nothing quite like not having a job when the rest of your friends have jobs. Obviously misery loves company, but I look around and see my friends all being so successful, their lives moving on and growing... and mine is standing still, and hasn't moved since August 2015, almost 2 years ago.

I don't have any work to complain about or to. I don't have anyone to share my fashion stories with, or what is happening in the industry, or to nerd out around. I read articles everyday about my industry... but have no one to share them with. Even in the last year, when I had no one else professionally to share them with, I could always share them with my mom. And I'm sure she didn't really care or understand, but that's the great thing about moms (I one of the things I desperately miss) -- they can fake it enough to make you think that they care. Or maybe they just love that their kid is so passionate about something, that it comes across as caring. Either way, I have no one to relate to on a job level either.

So, here I am.
Alone mentally, thinking of my mom and grieving her but feeling like no one else is doing so.
Alone physically, not having a boyfriend or a partner that I can be open with or touch for comfort (or just cry to).
Alone professionally, not having a job and not having a professional outlet to express what has always been such a huge part of myself.

I know it can't get better unless I tell someone, or ask for help.
But I just can't bring myself to have everyone else feel the way I feel.
Because it sucks.
And I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

You Will Be Okay

Well, I survived Mother's Day - though just barely.

And I didn't know that the week after would be so terrible as well.
I'm not sure why exactly, but it was like a Mother's Day hangover of emotion that just wouldn't lift -- and if we're being honest, a little bit of actual hangover from some self-medicating.

So as if it isn't already hard to get out of bed every day, it's becoming equally as hard to look for a job. I don't know when was the last time that you've looked for a job, but I hoping the answer is "not in the last 10 years" because it is REEEEALLY terrible. Like really terrible.

I've applied to so many jobs in the last 6 weeks (hard to believe that I have really only been back in NY for 6 weeks) that it's hard to keep them all straight. And while it's not super realistic to think that I would have landed and started a job by now... I secretly in the back of my head thought I would.

And maybe it was because since I had so "selflessly quit my job to be there for my mom" -- and so many people repeatedly telling me this and then being like "Oh, you'll go back and get something perfect" or "You can always get another job", that for some reason I thought there would be some divine intervention and I would get back to NY, and that job would have just been waiting for me the whole time and would just fall right into my lap with little to no work.

Hey, after everything I had been through in the last month, a girl could dream right?!

Well, of course, in reality that's not exactly how that works. It takes dozens of versions of resumes, multiple versions of portfolios, and countless bullshit cover letters to even get someone to respond to you. Even if it's just a rejection. You know it's bad when you are literally just waiting to get a rejection - at least you know that your resume is actually getting reviewed (or at the very least, it's getting through the filters of the job boards to get a rejection).

So where am I now? Well... I'm not in a super great place with my grief, to begin with. It comes and goes, but basically sits on my chest for most of the day, especially when I don't have anything else going on that day. Those days are the worst. If I don't force myself to go to the gym in the morning, there's a lot of days that I can't drag myself out of bed until mid-afternoon.

And it's those days -- those "lay in bed all day" days, when I'm not motivated to shower, to get dressed, much less send out resumes, and remind myself I haven't worked in almost a year that I REALLY need my mom.

Just to pick up the phone and call her and tell her how terrible it is looking for a job. And I'm frustrated, and scared, and what if I don't get a job? What if I need to get like 3 part-time jobs just to pay my bills? Where should I start looking for those part-time jobs? And I'll still be okay even if I'm 35 and working 3 part-time jobs, right?!

And then I remember I can't call her, I will NEVER be able to call her. She won't be able to say "Don't worry, things will work out" or "I know, looking for a job is terrible, but you'll get through it" or "You can always get a part-time job, it won't make you any less of an adult, and you never know, you might really like one of those jobs and it could lead to something else".

And then I get even more stressed out. And depressed. And less likely to be able to get out of bed, be productive, and WANT to do anything.

Ugh, it's such a vicious cycle, and to be honest, I don't know how to break it until I get a job. And even then I won't be able to call her and tell her about my new job, my new boss, my new coworkers, what we are working on.

So I just keep doing what I can at the moment -- and if things are too overwhelming and too much, then I just stop. And take a break. And sometimes that break is an hour. Sometimes a day. Sometimes 2 days.

I wish I could self-soothe through this. That I didn't feel like I need to call her, to talk to her. But she was always the person I called when I was upset. Or angry. Or worried.

And now, I don't feel like I have anyone to fill that void.
At least now right now.
So for the time being, I have to tell myself "You will be okay" -- and just hope that I believe myself.

The Worst Week Of The Year

The week I've been dreading since my mom died is finally here: Mother's Day week.

The endless ads on TV and Facebook and Instagram exist just to remind me that while everyone else is consumed with what to buy their mom's for Mother's Day, I'll never be able to celebrate another one with her. Never be able to send her flowers or a card. Let her know how much I love her.

It's still 4 days away, and it already cuts so deep, I can't imagine what Sunday will be like. But I've made plans with my friend L. I suppose we are new friends... she is a childhood friend of my good friend S, whom I had met a couple of times.
But then my mom was diagnosed with cancer, and I get an email from L: her mom has cancer too, and has been fighting for 5 years. So we immediately had a common bond on that front. It's sort of amazing how that can bond people fairly quickly, even if the experience isn't exactly the same.
L's mom and my mom kept getting sicker, and then I'm early December, L's mom died. And she was one of the first to reach out to me when my mom died too.

I suppose it's because we are both members of a club we didn't want to be in, that now we have a special connection to bond over.
Anyways, I'm seeing L for hr first time since I've been back tomorrow. We are having dinner and wine and just going to talk. I'm a little anxious but also excited? Relieved? Not quite sure what the other emotion is, but it's definitely on the positive end. At least I will have someone else who knows the pain, the anger, the loss that I'm feeling.

And then for the dreaded Sunday we are going to her friends house and she is hosting a brunch for women that have lost their mothers. L and I have both admitted to being apprehensive about it - like, do I even want to be in public for this "holiday"? I honestly don't know. But ultimately I think it will be a good thing. It will be better than being alone, I'm positive about that!

So I'm mostly just trying to keep myself busy this week.
Extra sessions at the gym.
Going to the Botanical Gardens tomorrow.
I even found a new support/therapy resource today that I'm looking into (okay, well technically my friend found it, but whatever).
Applying applying applying for jobs like it's, well, my job.
Trying to sleep through the night, hahaha - that one's not going so good.

And just telling myself I have to make it til next Monday.
I will make it to next Monday.

Motherless Daughters

So here it is: another sleepless 2am.
I'm not even going to pretend like I'm tired. I tried that, and it hasn't gotten me anywhere.
And since I'm not sleeping, I decided to update this instead.

It's been a relatively... good week. I hate to even say that, but things have been rather productive.
I applied for 7 jobs. I went to the gym. I made some serious headway in finding a new roommate.

And then I found this article.
And cried for about an hour. Hm, come to think of it, maybe that's why I can't sleep now...

Anyways, I found the article through another link that was about being Motherless on Mother's Day (more on how much I'm dreading THAT later). I thought I would read it just to start to prepare myself for what is sure to be a terrible day. But then as I was scrolling down, I saw another previous entry that was "Read This When You Miss Your Mom".

She blogger also happened to publish it the week my passed away.

And damned if it wasn't spot on.

"You'll miss her when something great happens and she is the first person you want to call but you know if you tried, it wouldn't be her voice on the other end."
Uh yeah.

"You'll miss her when you're all alone in bed crying yourself to sleep because the thought of her being gone still comes as a shock to you."
Yep, that would be tonight.

Basically just going through all of the things, and me just reading them going "yep. yep. yep" through a stream of tears.

And then just when I thought I couldn't read any more...
The reason that I'll keep going back this article.
The reason that I'm posting it here again now.
The reason to keep me going, even though sometimes I can't breathe and can't get out of bed, and can't fathom how all life hasn't stopped around me.

"...when you miss your mom remember how much she loved you, remember that she never wanted to leave you and there is nothing in this world that she wouldn't have done to be able to you live out your life. When you miss your mom, go that extra step to make her proud, live the life she wanted you to live, be the person she wanted you to be."

THAT my friends, THAT is how I will keep going.
To live the life she wanted me to live.
To be the person she wanted me to be.

She spent a lot of her final months telling me how proud she was of me. And of course those are the things that you can shyly just shrug off and be like "gee mom, thanks I guess"... if you can ever even come up with a *real* response.
But now I have the comfort of knowing that she WAS proud of me. And I KNOW she was proud of me.
And there's nothing that can take that away.
In fact, it's all I really have to hold on to right now.

The New Normal

Well. Here we are.

What had started out as a way for me to detail my mom's cancer journey and my fears about that, will now be focusing on my grief after her death.

But let me back track just a little...
So I did quit that job. And it was a good thing that I did because in January, they ended up cleaning house and everyone got fired.
I went back to NC to be with my mom at the end of August/beginning of September. The last couple of weeks in NY after I quit my job, but before I went back to NC is kind of a blur. I spent time with my friends. I stayed out too late. I got a tattoo. I did all kinds of things around the city I never did during the week before, because I always had a job.

And then I got back to NC to be with my mom... and forgot all about this space. And writing in it. I spent most of my days hanging out with her, making her meals, cleaning her house, taking her to every chemo and doctor's appointment imaginable.
It was terrible. It was wonderful.
I didn't once regret being there. Well... maybe when my rent checks cleared every month with no money coming in. And I did end up having a online fundraising thing that helped out a lot too.

My mom slowly deteriorated. She stopped eating as much - it was too painful. The pain medication stopped working, and upping it only made her sleepy and she couldn't get out of bed.
She slowly deteriorated, until she quickly deteriorated.

Her doctor gave us the news that she had a blockage in a bile duct to her liver caused by inflamed lymph nodes from the cancer. She got jaundiced in a matter of hours. Her abdomen got swollen with fluid. Her doctors sat us down and said there was nothing to be done; that treatment options were over. They could put in a catheter to ease the fluid in her abdomen, but then hospice would be called.

My mom went into hospice on Tuesday March 14th. She lost her battle with cancer 6 days later on Monday March 20th.
We had maybe 2 good days with her once hospice was called. "Good days" meaning she knew where she was, who she was, and who everyone else was. The rest of her stay in hospice was us trying to keep her sedated so she didn't have any symptoms of her "terminal agitation" (seriously, couldn't they come up with a better word than that!?). Drugs being administered to her every 3 hours around the clock. No food. No water. Having to put a diaper on her was probably the worst thing that I've ever had to do.

It was a blessing that it wasn't dragged out any longer than that. I don't think we could have taken it. And she wouldn't have wanted us see her like that. My brother and I were there when she died, holding her hands and telling her we loved her and she didn't need to worry about us anymore.
I would imagine watching someone take their last breath is just a powerful as watching someone take their first. It was only fitting that my mom saw my brother and I take our first breaths, and we were there to watch her take her last.

I took a few weeks after she died to go back to NY. I didn't necessarily feel ready to go, but I was also just sitting around in her house with constant reminders of her, but nothing to do. It was painful to be in her house without her.

What I didn't realize was how painful it would be to come back to NY without her too.

The night before I left to NC, my friend L came over to "help me pack" (ie, drink all of the wine), and it was through tears around midnight that I was confessed that my biggest fear was coming back to NY with no job and no mom.

I am now having to face my biggest fear.

Somedays I'm okay - I can get out of bed, go to the gym, shower, apply for jobs, work on my portfolio, etc.
Somedays I stay in bed all day until the sun goes back down. Sometimes it's just too hard to get out of bed.
I feel like if I had a job, I would be forced to get up and get out and be a member of society. Which in some ways would be good, and some ways I think it would make it easier for me to bury my feelings and not feel anything.

But it's just like I have an overwhelming weight on the chest all the time. I don't cry all the time. I don't even cry everyday. But at the strangest, weirdest times it just hits me that I can't call my mom and see what she's doing.
Or to talk to her about looking for a job, and how I'm worried I won't find one. How I'm worried about money, and she's not there to tell me "it will be okay".

I have to tell myself it will be okay... and I'm not sure that it is okay.
Or I ever will be "okay". What will "okay" look like?

But what then?

I feel like I'm losing everything.

In the past year, I've lost my job. My career. My ambition. My drive. My desire to pursue my dreams. My "best" friend (of course I have gained and strengthened so many others at the same time).
In the last 6 months, I've lost my feeling of security. My love of my career. My optimism.

And just thinking about going to be with my mom for an extended period of time brings me peace... and makes me feel like I'm losing myself. Like I'm giving up my life. My friends. My dreams. My possibilities. My apartment.
And all just to lose my mom in the end.

*side note: when originally typing the above thought, "lose" was originally typed "love". I can't make that up.

I need to be with her so desperately. I can't eat. I can't sleep. I'm miserable all day until I talk to her.
But at the same time, I'm terrified to give up this life I have carved for myself. What happens when I quit my job? What about money and making a living? What about my apartment? What about my insurance?

Even though my current job causes me so much more stress than I've ever had in a job -- just the thought of giving it up for nothing else, is terrifying. It's not something I've ever considered even on the radar of being able to do before. But now it just seems like every wasted miserable second that I spend in that office, I could be spending with my mom. Enjoying her time, talking with her, and being together.

But what then?

When it's all over -- 3 months from now, 6 months from now, 12 months from now -- what then?
Do I pick myself up and come back to NY? How? With what job? Can I? Will I even be able to go on?
Honestly, right now, I can't imagine anything past December. Or what I'm going to do after that. Hell, I can barely even think about December.
I can't imagine packing up my mom's things, dividing them among myself and my brother, putting the best parts back in a suitcase and come back to NY with no job, no prospects, nothing but the couches of my friends, and hopefully some money in the bank to send out some resumes.

I keep telling myself to just "trust and let go".

But much easier said than done for this Capricorn.

I thought that making the decision to go back and be with my mom would make my heart lighter, easier, make me sleep better. That only lasted a few days before the "what ifs" sprang into action.
What if she goes sooner than I thought and we don't have the time together that I wanted?
What is she stays healthy and strong, beating the odds, but I'm too scared to leave her again, go back to my own life and all of a sudden I'm in my late thirties -- partnerless, childless, jobless?

I feel so guilty even putting any of this out in the universe. This was not the path that I thought I was going to take. This was not the path that I thought my family was going to take.
And now that I'm faced with it, I'm not sure what IS the right path.

All I know is I feel lost on any of the paths, and that I've lost it all.
And may not be able to bring any of it back to the way it was.