I Didn't Sign Up for This

DISCLAIMER: Because, until recently, I never fully appreciated these, but damn, now they are the best thing to come around since the Starbucks app). This post talks about grief, death, suicide, mental illness, cancer... and I think those are the biggies. Just wanted to give you a heads up so you can either stop reading, mentally prepare, take a deep breath, or whatever else you may need when knowing those things are coming up.

Here we are, once again. The first entry of a shiny new blog. So many possibilities, so many words to come, so many #hashtags to create.

Yeah, that's not quite the point of this one. Sorry to disappoint. Or not. Only time will tell, I guess.

The reason I started this blog at this time is because I'm grieving. This is news for those of you who just happened upon this in some random search. For those of you who read the "about me" page, well, then it's just a friendly reminder.

Yup. I am eyebrow deep in the wonderful world that is grief. Fun stuff, right?

Yes, I've lost people in my life before now. By age 33, I've said goodbye to all my grandparents, a great aunt, a great uncle, friends, three cats, two gerbils, a turtle, and I don't know how many fish. Death isn't something new, or scary, or even something I dread. It's just part of life (cue the opening to The Lion King).

But those were all very different than what's going on now. Maybe because I was younger. Maybe because I just wasn't necessarily that close to some of those who passed. But really, it's probably because, from what I've heard/read/was told by my therapist, this is one of, if not the hardest deaths to face.

On February 27, 2018 my mom killed herself.

It's alright. I needed to take a deep breath after that, too.

Even now, just a little over three months after the fact, that is still a very weird and difficult sentence to write. But there it is. And it's still true. And that fact will never change.

Ok, let's all take another deep breath together now, shall we?

By the way, deep breathing becomes a major thing during these situations. Mostly because there are plenty of times where one forgets to breathe. And sleep. And eat. And basically do anything else a living being needs.

Yes. My mom is dead. As the wonderful, brilliantly hilarious Kate Spencer (and no, she didn't pay me to write that. I don't even know her. Well, I mean, I follow her on Instagram and she may have responded to my post... where was I?) put it, I'm now "a member of one of the crappiest clubs in the world."* I definitely didn't sign up for it, and unfortunately there is no "unsubscribe" link floating in the air.  

To say this has been a difficult past 101 days... well... difficult is definitely a word that could be used to describe it. So is exhausting. Weird. Interesting. Unreal. Surprising. There are a lot of words that are quite applicable to the situation. None better or worse than any other. Quite often the correct word choice changes by the day. Hell, by the minute. But that's all part of this. This grief thing.

So, the reason for the blog.

I started a journal the day I found out because, well, as you may have guessed, your brain might just go into hyper-drive over something like this, and there are only so many people who will listen to you talk and for only so long. It was nice to get thoughts out, and I'll most likely still use it for some general things that don't need to make their way to the blogosphere, but I find myself wanting to be part of the bigger conversation.

Believe me, there will be a post about my feelings and thoughts on the mental health care of this country. My soapbox is sitting in the corner, just waiting to be dusted off and brought out in all its glory.

But that's not even why I felt compelled to bring this into a more public forum. As part of my way of trying to wrap my head around all of this, as I do with almost everything in my life, I turn to reading. And listening. And trying to learn from others experiences. I've stumbled upon some a-MAZ-ing things so far where I've shouted through tears "someone else gets it!" while driving in my car, or lying on my bed, terrifying my cat who had been comfortably sleeping next to me. And I will share those with you. But also, I want to share my story because if I can even make one other person feel like they aren't completely alone in facing a completely crazy situation, then maybe this all won't seem quite so bad.

So, welcome. This isn't going to be all sunshine and roses. Fuck, it probably won't even be partly cloudy and dandelions, but it will be honest.

*For real though, whether you're a "member" or not, check out Kate Spencer's book, The Dead Moms Club. Again, not paid to say that, just honestly love the book. And if you are a card carrying member of the club, trust me, it's what you need.