It seems like since my mom died, the worst times for me are at night. Everything slows down. The pups are tired and their antics and capers over for the day. My super hardworking love has to be in bed by 10 or so. So that leaves me and my thoughts. I could go out from time to time, but during the week it's not that practical.
I wake up every morning feeling so relieved. It's a brand new day. I'm happy. Excited for what this year will bring. 2011's my new chance. Time to stop existing and time to start living. Since I rarely have to be at work before 1 or 2, I usually do a few things around the house. Eat, play with the pups and run errands. Or just relax til it's time to work. That's what I've been doing the most since I can't sleep at night and I'm pretty tired.
It usually starts something like this. I see a date on tv or a name. Or anything that reminds me of my mom. Then the guilt starts. The what if's. I replay our last conversation over and over in my head.
She had originally told me since we wouldn't be seeing each other for the holidays, she was going to send me a card. Fine, I thought. She doesn't want to see me, I'll spend it here. I won't even worry about making the trip down there.
I got her card in the mail. She sent a check for $500. I didn't want to cash it and I told her I wasn't going to. "That's too much", I insisted over and over. She told me it was fine and made me promise I would.
Sunday before Christmas was the last time we talked. I was at my work's Christmas party having an awesome time. I gorged myself with delicious food and played intense rounds of Catch Phrase. Then I looked down at my phone and saw a text from my cousin. My mom called her and told her she was going in the hospital and I needed to come get this "gray tote" from her.
I panicked and called my mom. She was so terrified and certain that she was going to the mental hospital. I said "I can't take this right now, I'll call you when I leave". I went back to the games and put on a happy face. I called Mom back on the way home. Turns out she had no reason to believe she was even going to the hospital. She panicked me for nothing. I said again "I CANT TAKE THIS. ITS TOO MUCH. Why do you create this stress for yourself? You are on disability. You don't have to work! You wake up everyday and the day is YOURS."
"I know. You're exactly right," she said with a hint of sarcasm.
Unconvinced, I asked "Is this the part where you tell me I'm fat?". Commenting on my weight was her only way to get back at me when she felt I was being mean to her. "We both need to lose weight".
"Will you come home for Christmas?" she asked. "No, you said we weren't seeing each other for the holidays." I was so bitter about that. She could have apologized but instead she just said a disappointed "Ok". A true picture of our relationship. After she assured me she knew she wasn't just going to be locked away in the hospital, we got off the phone. I don't remember if I told her I loved her. I do remember that I was very harsh.
The next day, at work, she left me a voicemail. So cheerful. So reassuring. "Just wanted to let you know everything's fine, and I'm feeling better!" I hadn't heard that tone in so long. I was so happy. Mom was in fact no longer flipping out. I got off work late that night and didn't call her back.
Tuesday, Will had the day off. We went shopping with the money she gave me. I was feeling great. I just knew she was alright and maybe I could go visit her after all. When we got home, I asked Will if he wanted to thank my mom. He said yes. He'd never talked to her EVER. I know how weird this sounds. I'll get to that in a minute. So this was going to be a huge deal. They were going to talk!
No answer. Hm. Weird. I kept trying. Nothing. I went to bed a little uneasy thinking she had actually ended up going to the hospital. Wednesday. Nothing. Her voicemail box was full. Cell phone dead. Oh yeah, she's definitely in the hospital.
Thursday came. Her high school friend called me and wondered where the heck mom was. I told her not to worry and explained how on Sunday Mom was so worried that she would be in the hospital and that I just knew that's where she was. Her friend seemed to feel better after we talked.
Christmas weekend went by and I didn't hear a thing.
I just knew something was wrong. If she was in the hospital, they would have for sure let her use the phone for Christmas. I think it was finally Sunday when I began to think she could be dead.
I'm sick of telling the story of how I found out.
There's nothing to match the pain and emptiness I feel. Even as horrible as our relationship was at times. I can't believe she and Will would have had the chance to talk.
This type of thing is the exact reason why I never felt comfortable letting him meet her. For someone who doesn't truly know mental illness, I didn't think Will could really understand it all. So I kept them distant. How could he go with me to visit her and slowly watch her push my buttons? He loves me after all, so he'd feel compelled to take up for me, but then there's that weird awkwardness where she's my mother and he'd have to be respectful. That's how our visits always were, no matter WHO was around. I already did that with my last serious boyfriend. He hated her and it was no fun dealing with it. So with Will, I chose to not deal with it AT ALL. I don't regret that decision one bit.
I can't believe that when she chose to kill herself, she knew I suspected I might be pregnant. I wasn't. But at the time I truly thought i was.
I guess I don't feel guilty when I sit down and think it through. We each have a personal responsibility to continue living. She had a personal responsibility to herself and her family and friends to see that tomorrow could have patched things up about a Christmas visit. But her illness wouldn't let her. So my guilt is replaced by anger. I'm so angry that someone's mind can get sick just like anything else. Coming to terms with that will be the worst part of it all.
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