Wednesday, December 30, 2015

i warn you, this is going to be the most raw [and most random] blog i have ever written; a blog that contains #nofilter [and bad grammar].

i'm really pissed off. like destructively pissed off. and by destructive, i don't mean hurting myself [let's be serious - i would have done so a long time a go if i wasn't so chicken] or hurting anyone else intentionally; by destructive i mean packing a knapsack and disappearing forever, without a trace, because, well, i'd rather be alone and know why i'm alone than lay in bed at night and wonder why.

everyone in my family has someone to lean on through this, but i don't. not to that extent any ways. you know, someone who's obligated to be there for me, and sit with me when i feel at an all time low, like i do now. someone who gets me [though i am starting to realize that no one really does]. someone who can just sit with me and not expect me to entertain them, or even talk when i don't have the energy to. someone i'm comfortable enough to cry in front of, and who can hold me as i do.

this week was deeply traumatic for me. my life crumbled beneath me when i got a phone call on monday afternoon telling me that the doctors needed us all to come in and say goodbye to my mom, who, to my knowledge, was doing well half an hour before when i checked in on her. the next seven hours were the scariest hours of my life. i paced around the house, pleading with God to allow my mom to stay alive until i got there, praying that someone would pick up their phone and make that moment feel less scary and less lonely for me, all the while dropping f bombs, because, let's face it, sometimes dropping an f bomb is the most therapeutic thing one can do.

i was relieved [and so very thankful] when i got to the hospital and saw my mom sitting up and smiling. i know God heard my prayer [and my f bombs, and still loves me the same].

yet, it was a week of ups and downs. one day, mom was fine, and the next, not so much.

on top of this, i feel like an outcast in my own family, and didn't find much support from them while i was there, in fact, the complete opposite was true. [out of respect for them, i'll keep the detail to myself; i realize we're all dealing with the stress of this in our own way].

one night, when my mom was up talking about us, she said, "adam's really good at computers, amanda's really good at making cakes, and paula, i'm not so sure what she's good at". i cant stop thinking about those words; they've been replaying in my mind like a broken record ever since.

i'm all alone in life.

my mom doesn't know what i'm good at.

she's dying, my dad's gone, and i'm really pissed off about both.

i'm pissed off that God designed me with such a desire to have a family of my own, and yet i'm alone and barren at 35, and everyone else in my life has a spouse, or a boyfriend, and most of them, kids.

i'm angry that i was created an emotional being, that i battle depression and anxiety, and that, although i've been able to conquer my mental illness day to day, situations like this send me on a downward spiral.

and lastly, i'm mad that most of my closest friends are absent and think it's suffice to text me to let me know they've been 'too busy' to text me, when i have done nothing but show up for them when they've needed me to.

or maybe, just maybe, all of the anger i feel is misplaced. who knows.

but what i do know is that i'm not doing very well these days, and plan on spending the day with my reliable buddies, netflix and shuteye.


  1. your anger is not misplaced, you have every right to it, and don't feel like you need to apologize for it. you've been through a lot of shit. keep being you.

    ps. check out this gal:
    especially this one:

    1. thanks for getting it, friend. miss you.

  2. I believe what your mom was really saying is that you are so awesome in so many ways that it is hard to sum it up as one thing in particular. You are just too good for one word. She believes it and I believe it.