August 4, 2007

  • It still hurts

    A day doesn’t go by that I don’t wish I could die, and be with my mom again. That thought alone should be scary, but .. what actually scares me the most is that the main reason I haven’t taken 3 handfuls of vicodin during one of these times is that I want the house to be in order before I die..  I want my room, belongings sorted, embrassing things trashed.. underwear clean.. house dusted etc etc etc. How obsurd is that? No, I’m not gonna off myself… but those are my thoughts when I think about it. Today, for the 1st time, I thought about how hard it’d be on my nieces and nephews… but it ranked less on the house being in order.

    I miss my mom more than anyone can possibly comprehend. I… am totally lost without her. I have nothing else. Nothing. And I honestly, don’t think I will ever have more. I will never have someone who accepted me like she did.. and loved me unconditionally like she did. I will never have anyone I am so utterly comfortable with.. When I think about her being gone.. my chest gets tight and my stomach hurts and I can’t catch my breath. It’s still, physically painful. Amazing how thoughts do that.

    I dreamt about my mom the other night… I saw her.. and I was shocked.. I asked her if it was really her, that I thought she had died, but it must have been a horrible dream… she said it was her or some thing like that… but then I was like.. I can’t move, she might disappear.. but I wanted to hug her so badly I couldn’t.. I thought if I could touch her, it would all be ok. So I ran to her and was about to reach her when I woke up. Every night that I go to bed, I try to make myself dream about her.. just so I can see her. I don’t know if that’s healthy or not, but at this point I don’t really care. I just want to spend time with her, even if it’s a dream.

    The state fair is coming soon..  and when I realized this, it felt like I was hit in the stomach with a hammer. Mom always loved the fair, not the rides or noise.. but the exhibits .. the plants/baked goods/crafts.. I never appreciated them like she did.. and a few times I wouldn’t even go with her to see the. I would trade my soul just to be able to go with her to the fair this year.. watch her ohh and ahh over everything. And take rests on benches when we got tired. Talk about wether we could afford a funnel cake or not.. and me try to find a way to get her cotton candy, which she loved so much.