u/heloveskenya

I just recently posted here, but I’m posting again because, frankly, I’ve never really been in a space where I can write my thoughts down and people who understand are more likely to come across it and respond, instead of people who don’t know how this feels.

Something I want to talk about is how sometimes I feel like I don’t know my mom, even though I was 15 when I lost her. I feel like I was just stepping into becoming my own person when my best mentor was taken from me.

After her death, four older women came into my life, and I wanted so badly for someone to treat me like a daughter. I haven’t found that yet, and I don’t think I will. I get so sad about how she couldn’t teach me life skills or help guide my personal growth. I get sad that I don’t know her Subway order, or that I’ll graduate three times in my career and she won’t be here to cheer me on.

Now at 21, there is so much I wish I knew about her that I’ll never get the chance to ask. I feel cheated.

I lost my mom 6 years ago, and this year I have finally stopped myself from wishing I was ‘healed from this’. My mama passed from a heart attack at 38 yrs young, I was 15 & I walked into her room to probably steal some of her perfume and saw my mom on the floor. She was puffy and even though I’d never seen a deceased person before, I knew that my mom was and even that realization was so... So much that I denied giving her CPR. And that still fucks with me. I know that there’s nothing I could have done at that point, but my fear stopped me from helping someone I loved. I mostly just wish that I had heard her fall or scream or just anything. I got my baby sisters out of the house and nothings been the same ever since that night. I went to a mental hospital 2 years after because I had so much trauma from it. But like I said, I’ve been trying hard- I go to therapy occasionally, and I’m working on regulating my nervous system. Her birthday, death date, and Mother’s Day are all within a months span of each other, so its been hard to keep calm and positive. Grief truly never dies. So, I cried last night. And it’s not even Mother’s Day yet.