Six Months of Aftermath

Today marks six months of aftermath. Six months of not seeing my favourite person in the world. Six months of adjusting to a whole new life where the only change is the absence of one person. 

I have lived half a year longer than I ever thought I could without my mom. Not only that, but the world has been turning half a year longer than I believed it could. Logically, I always understood that chances were my mom would die before me, and therefore I would have to go on living in a motherless world. Emotionally, that made no sense to me. My mom was my world, therefore, if she ever died, I and everything else would cease to exist. Not only was that my belief, it was also my preference.

I’ve been doing better than anyone ever thought I would be able to. I’ve been going to work, and doing whatever I need to do for the most part, like any normal person would. I cry sometimes, and I find triggers in random places, but I’ve been existing. I haven’t been locked in my room all the time, which is an achievement with or without the addition of grief. My antidepressants are working overtime, but they’re doing their job well. I miss her all the fucking time, and she’s on my mind constantly, but it’s not totally debilitating. It’s a cliché in a cliché, but I never understood what people meant when they said, “she’s always with you,” but now I get it. I always thought it was some religious thing, like she’s watching me from heaven or something, but what it really means is that I hear her voice in my head, and I still feel her love in my heart. I often know exactly what decisions she’d make, and I can recognize the moments she’d be proudest of me. 

Life still sucks a lot. I hate it when I make a joke and then think about how much she would have liked it. I hate the times when I really need a hug and can’t find the comfort that only she could give me. I hate being the only girl in my immediate family. There’s just some things my brothers and Dad can’t understand no matter how hard they try, and she would get it without requiring any explanation (specific shoutout to my dad though, for being so amazing and always trying his best to understand).

Honestly, the future really scares me. The thought of one day having children who will be named after her but not truly know her, devastates me. While on the topic, another scary thought is that if I chose to have children (which I have no idea if I’ll ever want or not), I may have to give birth someday without her being there to support me. I don’t know why that thought specifically is so scary to me, especially since I had never really thought about giving birth before, but I never want to have to do anything that hard and scary without her. 

I resent time for moving forward. Mum is stuck in the past right now, and the longer I go on, the further away I get from her. As each new day comes, I feel myself reaching a little harder to try to grab her and move her along with me. It’s a hopeless endeavor though, because no matter what I do, she can’t physically be with me here and now. And that really fucking sucks.