I feel vulnerable. I feel weak. I feel like a wave has come crashing down over me lately and dragged me right back to the beginning of my grieving all over again. I’ve gone back to not wanting to think about mum too much for fear of getting upset, I’ve been keeping myself busy as much as I can. The photographs of her I ordered a few weeks back are still in their packet on the kitchen side, unmoved, untouched, not looked at. One sentence keeps spinning round in my head, just one measly sentence but it explains why I feel vulnerable and weak.
“If I can lose my mum, I can lose anyone.”
That is the exact reason I’ve become distant, unforgiving, and a little harsh sometimes. I relied on mum for so much. She was my go-to person when I was having a panic attack or an anxious day. She was the one I went to see when I was feeling down. She was the one who was there when I gave birth to 2 children, and miscarried another. She was the one I spoke to first when I had good news. She was the one who made me feel better. She was the one I went to for advice on anything and everything. She was the one who was supposed to be coming with me when I tried on wedding dresses, to tell me how beautiful I looked, to tell me when I’d found “the one.” She never judged me. She never made me feel like crap, and she never belittled me. I relied on her for everything, and that’s exactly why I am the way I am since I lost her. I won’t ever go back to being the person I was. I HAVE to be independent. I HAVE to do things by myself, for myself. I HAVE to rely on nobody but myself. I understand there are people around me who love me and who are there for me, and I appreciate them more than anything. Yes, I will need them for help a lot over the years, but right now, I can’t imagine relying on someone else as much as I allowed myself to rely on my mum. I lost her, and she was my world, I cannot go through that again. I can’t go through allowing myself to become maternally close to someone, relying on them for the same things I relied on mum for, to then lose that person and go through all this allover again. 4 years ago I was suffering from intense agoraphobia, to the point where I couldn’t bear to sit by the door or open the windows because it was too close to outside. Going through that, and suffering from panic attacks has made me a different person. I look at the world as a threat, I notice things others wouldn’t probably notice, and yes that may mean I’m on edge some of the time, but going through all this in the past has made me more wary of losing my independence. Over the years it might change. My trust in the universe might change. But for now, that’s me.
My reasons behind feeling so vulnerable suddenly, apart from the statement made above, are somewhat small but significant. Over the last few days I’ve been doing the mundane task of going through my girl’s drawers and getting rid of, or passing down what’s too small for them. When I was doing Anya’s I came across a purple outfit, a long-sleeved, lace collared top with flowers all over it, and a matching frilly tutu skirt. My mum bought this outfit for Anya for her 2nd birthday. It was absolutely gorgeous. I held it up and realised that although the top still fits, the skirt is far too small on the waist for Anya, so I had no option but to pass it down to my niece. It broke me giving it away, I felt like I was giving a bit of mum away. Yes, I could have kept it, but I refuse to let myself get attached to items just because they in some way remind me of mum, whether they belong to her, or she bought them. Hanging onto clothes for this reason, to me, feels unhealthy. Yesterday I went through my own drawers because I have a years supply of dresses! I found a white dress tucked away at the bottom of my drawers, it’s got see through black lace bits at the top near the chest, and at the hips, it’s gorgeous and I haven’t worn it for a couple of years but I kept it. For one, it does remind me of mum and how much she had an amazing taste in buying clothes for me I normally wouldn’t look twice at, and 2, it’s gorgeous. I also found a wooly polo neck jumper dress that was mum’s years ago. She gave it to me about years ago because she began putting on weight. That’s something I rarely wear, but takes me back to a time when mum was well. Yes, I’m aware I’ve said I’m not keeping objects because they remind me of mum, but these two items triggered me back to some memories which were otherwise suppressed.
Grief is so much harder, and so much more complicated that I’d ever even dreamt it would be. I wouldn’t wish this upon my worst enemy. It’s scary to think that at some point in life everybody I know will have to go through this, they will each lose their mothers and all grieve, just like I am now. And I’m afraid that I won’t have any positive advice to give to them. I just hope and I pray that those I love don’t have to lose their mum’s before their time like I did, mum was 51, almost double my age. She should have been in her 90’s, old, grey and frail, smacking everybody with her walking stick, driving us all mad telling us what to do, and then pretending she can’t hear us when we ask her something. Instead her life was cut ridiculously short by a vile disease.
If your mum’s still around all I can say is treasure her. Create as many memories as you can. Take photos at every opportunity. If your mum died tomorrow how would you remember her? Would you remember how she looked? smelt? hair and eye colour? how her voice quivered as she told the story about you being born? Probably not eh? Would you regret not seeing her? Would you regret not telling her you loved her often? Don’t let her leave the Earth without knowing you love her and appreciate her for everything. There’s no second chances in death.
Living Without Mum 