Anniversary

Many of us who have lost a beloved parent dread the anniversary of their death. For me, one year will be August 16th. But I honestly dread other days just as much, or at least periods of time. From October of '18 until her death at just 64, it was a roller coaster of fear, frustration, anxiety and confusion. Mom was misdiagnosed by the useless doctors and hospitals she kept going to, trying to get help; they obsessed over blood clots in her lungs while completely ignoring that she had a fatty liver that soon became cirrhosis. Because she was sick, Mom lost her home, all her money, and her job. And because of depression, she started drinking, unbeknownst to me, which just completely destroyed her already-damaged liver. We had no idea what was causing her getting worse and worse since the doctors said it was just the blood clots. Each week that I get closer to August 16th, the more angry and devastated I feel. Each week is a one-year anniversary of countless hospital visits, doctor's appointments (that often would be casually cancelled by them), good days and bad days, which, by June, became nothing but bad days. Days that it seemed Mom was recovering in a makeshift bedroom that I made for her in the corner of my living room (and it's still there, almost untouched). But she kept secretly drinking, which finally drove her liver over the edge, practically overnight. Whilst cleaning out her car months after her tragic and preventable death, I came across this receipt on the floor, dated exactly one year ago today.

 A bottle of rum, spent with some of the last remaining money she had until Social Security kicked in. I had put her in a nice hotel for a few days so she could relax, and before she checked in, she bought more liquor. If I had known what was really making her ill, I would have put a stop to her drinking immediately, and focused on liver detox, and my beloved mother, my absolute best friend and soulmate, would still be alive today. Even by this point a year ago, I might have been able to save her life. The next bad anniversary will be less than two months from now, when Mom became jaundiced and I found a huge, half-empty bottle of vodka. By then, it was too late. My world ended two months later.

So, Where Have You Been?

Hello, everyone. I'm still around. I appreciate all who read my blogs and encourage you all to read more of them if you haven't already. But I haven't written anything for two whole years now. Here's why:

My beloved mother and best friend died on August 16th, 2019, at just 64 years old. She was my absolute everything, my soulmate, in a way. When you're short, fat and bald and 39 years old, you know full well that nothing you do will ever get females your age or younger to ever want you, so you simply don't try. My mom was the only female who ever loved me, ever cared for my heart and feelings. Words can't describe the utter pain and grief I have endured with her devastating loss, as well as the several months leading up to her untimely and possibly preventable illness and death. Although she was apparently getting sick possibly as early as late 2017, it wasn't fully noticable for another year. She lived right next door to me for over ten years, so I saw her every single day of my life. My father lives 45 minutes from me and has been useless for most of my adult life, so my mom was my absolute everything. Now I just work 40 hours a week (I'm considered essential personnel, so COVID19 has no effect on my work), then I just sit home alone and grieve. I have little motivation anymore to do anything but go to work and then be lazy around my house when I'm not working.

I'm going to start using this blog to publish my feelings, my utter despair and heartbreak, and maybe it can help others while providing a desperately needed outlet for my crippling sadness I now have. Hopefully it will help me and you. Getting motivated to even post this update took a lot, but I'm hoping later this year, I'll start posting my blogs, all dealing with loss and death of a loved one. Thanks for reading.