It has been awhile.

It's been awhile since I posted on here.  Obviously.
I did something rather stupid today.  I was in Giant Eagle, and I was trying to find something for my lunch.  I came across their pre-made meatloaf.  This meatloaf has a small story.  My uncle (my mom's brother) bought some of this meatloaf to make for us when he came to visit when my mom was sick.  He would make these AWESOME meals for us.  Gourmet stuff:  scallops- potatoes-fillet mignon- sauted spinach. . . .etc.  Well, he made this meatloaf with some of his sides, and it was SOOOOO good.  So with that, I bought it for my lunch today.  I ate it.  It tasted good.  But it was like I ate a bad memory.  All I can think about is sitting in Bob's warm house, watching crazy movies, going back and forth to mom's room where she was laying in her hospital bed. . . .sitting in there. . . . watching TV in her room. . . . . .giving her something to drink. . . .snow storms outside. . . .  I am so glad that my mom is released from pain, but I'm selfish. . . and I think that I would give anything right now to go back to last year.. . . .just to see my mom again real quick.  Thanks alot meatloaf.  I was doing so well too.

I cannot get a clear head.
Not sure when it got cloudy again.  Sometime last week I guess.  I thought it was because of my period, but I'm not entirely sure.  I cried a lot a couple weekends ago, and this passed weekend I was really angry.  I get mad at my husband but I don't say anything about it because it is probably irrational because I know I don't have a clear head right now.  He isn't here right now.  There isn't anyone here right now.  My mom isn't here right now.  She isn't here at all.  She died.  Some say her spirit is flying all around me and some say that she is in heaven look down upon me.  Some say that I will see her again when I die.  Please don't let me forget what my momma looks like.  I walk around my lonely house and I don't understand what has happened the past year.  This time last year, she was still alive doing radiation treatments.

I told myself I wasn't going to get mad at any of the students this year.  I was just going to let it roll off of my back.  Well, I didn't.  I got very angry during the fire drill and gave a slew of detentions to these disrespectful boys.  I am hoping that tomorrow is a better day with a clearer head.

Slippin'

This was a difficult weekend for me.   Sometimes grieving isn't over even when you think it is.

I just don't want to forget her.  I reply things in my mind so they can stay fresh because I don't want to forget her at all.  I really miss her and I feel like I'm choking on my breath.

I have never been religious, but I understand why people need it.  I understand why people want to believe that when they die, they get to see their family again.  I would love it if it was a guarantee that when I died, I would get to see my mom again.  It's not a guarantee.  No one really knows what happens when you die.

If there is a heaven, my mom is there.  I can envision her jumping around like she used to at the Banning Road house.  She used to exercise with this flimsy, turquoise t-shirt, underwear, and tennis shoes.  She would be running through the house talking and bouncing around---poofy hair flying around.  She would be jumping around saying how good she feels and taking deep breaths.  "I can breathe, I can breathe!!"  I can picture her saying that.  I wonder what you look like if there is a heaven and you are sent there.  I always envisioned it that you felt your best.  My mom always told me she felt her best in her 40s.

I think about the day she died and her last breaths.  Could she hear us?  I was glad that I talked to her a lot a few days before she became unconscious.  I wish I could have understood the words she was saying to me.  I could understand her sometimes, but it was hard.

I have done a good job enjoying my life everyday like she told me to, but right now I am so incredibly sad because she isn't here.

well. . .

So I started taking Zoloft in January.  It was for the sole purpose of taking care of my mom without freaking out.  As it is August, and she died in February, I am still on the Zoloft, and I don't want to get off of it.

I am a better person while on this medication.  I am so positive about life.  I don't get mad easily.  If I do get angry, I am able to let it go quickly instead of letting it stew.  Everything is fun that used to be scary:  rides at Cedar Point, flying in an airplane, talking in front of a large group of people, sitting as a passenger in a car. . .

I am a better teacher on this medication.  I have more patience.  I smile more.  I am more sensitive with the kids.   I don't take their misbehavior personally.  I am able to let things go that the kids do, and I don't think of it as a personal attack.

I am a better wife on this medication.  I am not angry at stupid things that don't mean anything.  I can let things go if we have an argument.  I smile more and more affectionate.  I don't cry as much and I don't have irrational thoughts.

So what's the problem?  I just feel like an ass because I cannot be this way without a stupid pill.  As I took it to take care of anxiety with my mom dying, it fixed other things.  It made me the person I've always wanted to be.  I don't want to go off of it because I know the person without this pill. . . and she is a HOT MESS.  I don't want to be that person again.  This person is crabby, annoyed all day, angry, sad, hostel, and other things I will not mention.  This person is also unsure, not confident, nervous, anxious, and hateful.  I love the way I am right now.  I love walking into work and being an optimist.  This is not me naturally.  Naturally, I am a pessimist and a depressant.  A "Debbie Downer" if you will.  I look in the mirror and I love the way I look.  I love every second of my life, and I know that the person without this pill doesn't care about life.  I used to say awful things. . . .I won't even go there.  It makes me sick.  Watching my mom die. . . .being on Zoloft. . . . I just want to live, live, live.  I want everyday to be happy and full of love and passion and music and teaching and food and friends. . . .I don't want everyday to be a drag, dark, cloudy, dismal. . . . .depressed.

I know that on the Zoloft, I feel less.  For me, this might be good right now.  From October 2010 until about June 2011, I have cried so much.  I don't want to cry anymore.  I haven't felt like crying since I got back from Emerald Isle.  I was sad for most of the vacation, and on my way home in the car, I was fighting back so many tears. . . . but something snapped back when I returned and the whole month of July and August has been the most amazing 2 months I've ever had in my 33 years of living.  I know that is silly, but it was. . . .and that feeling keeps going.  I don't want it to go away. . . .it will be a tragedy if it goes away. . . That is why I never want to go off of it.  And I'm sad that this isn't the real me.  This is a "Zoloft-ed" version of me. . . and I love this person so much.  The regular me. . . . .so unpleasant.

I know I cannot be on this pill forever.  If I ever want to have a baby, I have to get off of it.  I hate to say it, but I'd rather stay on it than have a baby that is how good I feel.  I know a lot of people think these pills are fake or they don't work. . . . well it has worked for me.  It is not in my head.  Ask the people the know me.  I really don't think they are scared of me anymore.  Except for my friend Joe because he is always scared of me.

It has been awhile. . .

It has been awhile since I have had the urge to write anything.  Mostly it is because I feel so alive.  I look around everyday at my surroundings no matter where I am and I just am thankful that I am alive and healthy.  I am visiting one of my best, awesome, kickass friends here in Oregon and I have been laughing non-stop.  This laughter is better than any grief counselor session.  We ate stupid over here.  Burping, farting, watching Twilight Saga, dancing in the car, clapping our hands loudly, saying things like, "He's hot" "He's unattractive", basically I'm 15 years old here, and I'm completely good with that.  Sometimes I think that I will never grow up the way I should.  I don't care because my mom was the same way.  My mom's laughter rings through my head and I laugh because she isn't here to laugh with me.  Since my mom died. . .we are going on almost 6 months ago. . . .my heart has opened to the point that it may burst with love and happiness for being alive.  The only thing that sucks is that my mom had to die for me to feel this way.  But my eyes are open, my heart is open, and I am here. . . I am alive.  For years I have been covered with a blanket of negativity. . . I just always felt so sour.  My life is beautiful, my life is amazing.  I have so much fun in my life.  I am so lucky.  I am thankful for everything I have.  I don't know if there is a heaven. . . I am not religious. . . but I hope there is.  I hope when I die, I can see my mom again somehow, and she will remember me.  We will laugh together again like we used to do.  I would sit on her bed and tell her everything about what was going on in my life. . . .and I always would make her laugh.  Laughter is so important to me.  I am thankful for the happiness I have been feeling lately.  I hope it never goes away.

So I went to the doctor's office. . .

I had to go to the doctor today for a check-up because of my right kidney issue and I have been on Zoloft to deal with my mom's cancer and death.  Also, being on Zoloft really helped take care of her better.  I was able to deal with a lot of things that would normally make me freak out.  I sat down in the waiting room, and I noticed this old woman walking in very slowly with a younger woman helping her through to sit down.  I do not think it was her daughter because the young woman kept calling her "Shirley".  I watched (without being creepy about it)  how she was helping Shirley into the waiting area and helping her sit down.  Then, an older man came in, and I am assuming it was Shirley's husband.  Shirley kept trying to get up and these 2 were trying to distract her with Redbook magazine so she would stay in her seat.  Shirley reached over and hugged her husband, and then they were all called back.  I watched Shirley hug the medical assistant, and then the door closed.  It was the sweetest thing I've ever seen.  It gave me a flashback of when Bob would help my mom to the bathroom or help her to stand when she was able to stand on her own.  I remembered when she came back home after spending a few days at the hospice center. . . and she wanted to walk to her room and I think it took 2 people to help her walk there.  I remember helping Bob transfer Mom to the other bedroom where the hospital bed was.  It's strange how these things hit me now.  When I used to see this, I wouldn't think twice.  Now, it could bring a tear to my eye.  Shirley was dressed really cute for an old lady.  lol  She had on a black pencil skirt with a pink t-shirt and black flip flops.  I wonder what my mom would have been like at that age.

Bags of memories

There are 2 bags of jewelry here that my mom made.  You might as well have plopped down 2 bags full of memories.  My mom was so talented and she didn't even understand or know that she was.  Sometimes people are obviously smart, like getting 5 billion on SATs. .. or making honor roll. . . but my mom was very creatively smart, and I know that I got that skill from her.  Unfortunately, I did not get the skill of being crafty and making things.  I remember going downstairs and being shown all of her pieces.  I remember going to the craft shows and being called a lucky charm because she said when I was there, she sold more stuff.  One craft show in particular was so much fun.  They had these stuffed peppers and mashed potatoes that were amazing.  I really had a great time stuffing my face with my mom.  I know it is just eating.  But, now, when I remember her crying because she wasn't able to eat her favorite salad from the French Coffee Shop, that memory of pigging out means more to me than it ever did before.  I know it is silly, but I love making signs.  My sisters in law always seem to need signs for things, and I will create the funkiest signs.  When I am finished, I stare at my "master piece" and I know that those talents were from my mother.  Another fun fact:  I love to shop... I probably have a borderline problem. . .but I love it.  I would "shop" at my mom's house for jewelry.  She would want to just give the jewelry to me, but I refused to take it for free and I would pay.  I would take the discount she offered me though :).  I really miss going to the craft shows.  That was the best time my mom and I would spend together.  That and going to the mall together.  I remember the last time we went shopping together at the grocery store.  She would put a bunch of crap in the cart, and then put most of it back because she would change her mind.  We went to eat lunch at Cracker Barrel.  I remember being whiny and crabby that day.  If I would have known that was the last time my mom and I would have eaten lunch together, I would have told her that our time together spent hanging out was some of the best times I have ever had.  I was thankful that my mom could also be one of my friends and that we could talk so freely.  I would tell her thank you for everything she did for me when I was a kid like driving me all over town to do music and dance.  She always nurtured my creative side.  I remember being the shyest kid in the world----covering my face when meeting new people.  As I grew older, I grew out of being shy. . . . but I know this had partly to do with my mom.  As an adult, when I hung around my mom, I felt like a kid.  I wanted her attention just like a kid would want.  I wanted her to think I was amazing.  I wanted her to think that I could do no wrong.  I wanted her to say I was pretty.  She would always say I could be a model.  She would tell me how talented I was.  She would tell me how pretty my hair was.  I know this may seem babyish, but I loved it.  I loved hearing this stuff about me that no one else would say.  It is always hard to believe good things about yourself.  My mom was so special.  I thought she would be alive much longer than this.  I miss you so much Mom.  Not because you told me how kickass I am. . . but because you were one of a kind and I miss our fun.  I wish I could tell you that.