So I wrote last about wishing I could get back to a place of being at peace with things, and feeling okay.
For whatever reason, I have felt more calm lately. Maybe it was writing about it that made me progress. My anxiety hasn’t been as intense, and I have felt closer to my mom in the times where my mind is quiet, and not buzzing with everything I worry about and am afraid of. I haven’t felt so overwhelmingly sad. I’ve also had more time with family, and close friends, and they all make me feel more whole.
I am finding that the more I allow things to fill the void I feel, the more those things actually help. I go through times where I am resistant to allow anything or anyone to make me feel better, or give me a relief from my grief. I have wondered if that resistance is driven by guilt; if I’m possibly wanting deep down to stay stuck in this phase, because feeling “better” means I have forgotten my mom, and those days and memories and experiences that led to my losing her. I feel silly even typing that, because anyone who knows me well knows how much my mom means to me, and that I couldn’t possibly forget her. The one thing cancer gives rather than takes is the chance to really talk to one another. My mom told me how much she wanted me to “find a way to be okay” if I ever lost her. I know how much she wants me to be happy, and not shut off. I’m trying. Even when I don’t want to, every day I push myself to get a little better, and to find something to heal me just a little. Some days I go forward, others I go backwards. I think that’s just the way of it, at least in the beginning.
For all of the things I have found a way to navigate through, all the lessons I have learned thus far on how to slowly put myself back together, the one thing I continually get stuck on is how to supplement my mom’s advice. I don’t even know where to begin on solving that one. She was my compass for so many of life’s challenges. She was the person who knew me best, so her input was so important. I am someone who is constantly self-analyzing, and she helped me figure out so much. I still catch myself picking up my phone to call her when I am excited about something. I wrack my brain trying to imagine what she would advise. I miss her feedback, her listening ear, and how she made everything make sense. I have found it strange to be going through grieving her death, and so many times thinking how much she would know exactly how to make me feel better, and what I should do. I am at milestone in life, losing a parent, and the one person who could walk me through it best is the one who is gone. It’s hard to explain (and I think I may be doing it poorly) but it just feels strange.
So for now, I’ll just be thankful for the somewhat regained peace I feel, for however long it may last. Maybe writing this will help me start to figure out how to fill this latest void. I feel like this one may take a while, but it’s probably supposed to.