Had a light anxiety attack at the laundromat tonight. I left with most of my clothes still damp. I just needed to leave. I hate being there. Then i started wondering if it could possibly be about that time in Brooklyn when i was 5 or younger and my mom had a fight with some ladies in the laundromat and asked me to translate for her. I think we had left and come back and then my mom's clothes had some marks on them, like tread marks or something because somebody had taken them out of the machine. So she was arguing with these tall women, from what i remember, and bad words were said in either English or Spanish and there was a lot of anger and i was scared. Somewhere later, maybe out in the street or at home my mom asked me, angrily, why i didn't defend her. You know, since i spoke English and she didn't. That hurt my feelings a lot because i was scared and i just wished that my mom didn't argue with them and i was mad at her for making me translate.
So tonight i remembered that and wondered if that's why i've been so afraid of laundromats my whole life.
Dr. Hirsh said if i wrote that down then i wouldn't have to carry it around in my head all the time.

It's almost 10, i hope i go to sleep soon. I just took a really long shower. I had a bad night. I cried as hard as i did in the days right after my mom's wake and mass.
I called Dr. Hirsh because i couldn't calm myself down. I left him a message asking him to call me back tomorrow or Wednesday but he called back in just a few minutes. I wasn't prepared for that. I was crying when i picked up the phone and afraid that i wouldn't be able to talk. He talked to me for 23 minutes. He told me he was glad that i called because he knows how hard it is for me to reach out for help. He said he knew something was wrong if i actually made the call. He always tells me to and for over a year now i never called him in between our sessions.
I took a Lorazepam to try to go to sleep as soon as i got back from the laundromat. I was freaking out. Also, i had 4 cups of coffee today and i think that was not good.
I'm tired now. Trying to get some of it out before i go to bed.
I cried in the shower a lot. First time in many months that i almost couldn't stop crying. i'm afraid to let it start up again.
It's just super sad for me right now, i guess. I miss my mom, i regret so much that i did or didn't do, i think it's so fucked up that she died so soon. At least another 10 years would have been cool. I know too many people with really old parents or grandparents. 68 is not okay for someone to die.

I listened to the 25 most exquisitely sad songs in the whole world today. According to spinner.com. They were mostly meh until i got to the George Jones song about the guy who stopped loving the girl the day he died. Something about laying a wreath on his door and taking him away later that day. It brought me back to the day my mom died and the moment they took her body away. I know they did it fast because they don't want it to be drawn out and traumatic for the loved ones, but it was traumatic. Maybe i'm exaggerating. The cancer was traumatic. But watching them wrap up her body in her blanket, and then inside another maroon blanket and strapping her to a board and wheeling it out of the apartment...i wasn't prepared for that. I'd never seen nor read about that. I had Diana and Carol on either side of me, holding me and i remember gripping them and drawing in a sharp breath, when they zipped up the bag.
I had held her dead body and even took a couple of photos of her and me. It was my mom. I would have kept her if i could. I'm glad i was able to be with her when she left me, and glad i saw her die but i also don't feel "good" when i think about it. If i replay her moment of death in my head, the moment i somehow described as beautiful in my text to friends, it's like digging out a wound and making it fresh again.

I stopped using my lightbox for a couple of days. I guess i need it ASAP.

Dr. Hirsh said it's good that i'm not isolating. I know i need to force myself to be with friends and family.

He said that even if i'm crazy, which i'm not according to him, there are still people out there who would like me because i'm crazy. Also, if only one in a million people liked me, there are 8 people in New York who could like me and be my friend. That's a lot. Before support group i had just about maybe 8 friends. And i had zero family before my mom got sick. So, anyway, that was a cool way to look at it.

I forget what else he said but that always happens. It'll come to me later.

I need to sleep. I hope this pill works.

Also he keeps on telling me use the Ritalin. I have to try it again, i get so resistant to that stuff.

He said i do guilt really well. Imagine if that was a profession. But a painless one.
He said i'm having some strong emotions right now because this is a tough time of year for people who are in mourning. And he said that i've had strong emotions my whole life and that's true and i never thought of that before. I get scared at how black and white things are for me. Good-bad. Success-failure. Beautiful-ugly. Worthy-worthless.

I just need time to pass. I need for the dates not to mean anything. at least after January 1st, i'll have a whole month of just days. And then my mom's birthday. and then less than two months until the one year anniversary. fuck that's soon.

I NEED to join a gym. I won't exercise otherwise and i know now, more than ever in my life, i need to exercise. i need get this shit out of my body, this stress, need to sweat it out and breathe it out.
Gonna find a gym for the new year.

Random crying is back.
Really sad in the street is back.
Christmas is over, thank goodness. It was actually nice. Well, Christmas eve was very nice, went to evening service in Rye, NY, sang Silent Night in the dark with lit candles. It was good to do something new and different and to be in good company.
Christmas Day was tiring and busy but ultimately good because my mind was occupied at all times and didn't stop to think about the bad stuff.
Today i was really tired and just vegged out at Jes' hanging out with Clem and didn't go to L.I. like i had planned to. My aunts were really worried apparently and i didn't talk to them until around 11 pm. I didn't get their calls to my cell phone and i wasn't home to receive those calls. It freaked me out that they both were so worried about me. Made me cry. They want my friends' phone numbers in case of emergency. They're right but it reminds me that my mom is no longer the one to worry about me. Plus i feel guilty remembering all the times i worried my mom by not calling.
My tia Beatriz telling me that she loves me very much and that her heart hurt because she was worried that she couldn't reach me just really upset me. It's great to know, but my mom should be telling me that.

Whatever. This is a really sad time of year. I know i can get through every day. I assume i will because i've gotten through every other day this year.

Been watching lots of episodes of "30 Rock." It really makes me laugh and i find it oddly comforting. The NYC setting and the characters just make me feel good.

Best moment of Tuesday:
When i told my group how sad i am that both my tias are going to be out of the country for my mom's birthday and how i had planned to go to dinner with them to celebrate it. And then the girls asked me if they could go to dinner with me.
Just. So much heart and love. It's the best thing anyone's said to me in a long time.
And Fran crochets? AND she made a giant lovely blanket for Baby Elvis and gave Alison a baby bag? Chills. And some of us got teary eyed.

I LOVE when we're together in F.C. and one of us is talking and the rest are nodding simultaneously because we "get it" COMPLETELY. It's this great feeling of being home (i know i've said that before) and of being whole and of belonging.
I told the girls that so often i wish i could call my mom or go home and tell her about the scarves Kerri made or about the adorable story about Fran's kids, or about the beautiful coat that Brianne's uncle named after her. And i KNOW my mom would have loved them all so much. And it hurts me that she never met them. But...because she's not here...that's why we're together. And i have to believe that we had to be together. Were meant to.

I walked to Macy's afterward, discovered it's open for 24 hours a day until Christmas eve and just wandered among the crowds, simultaneously battling the memories that make me long for her while relishing the feeling of being there with her.
The lingerie floor, specifically all the pajamas mocked me. I hate them. I think they're evil. Stupid holiday reds and pinks and no mom to buy them for.

Boots shopping was a failure. Nothing fit right. The 4th floor was doable. The 5th floor was where it started getting to be too much. I missed her the second i walked in, i thought i'd be tear-less but it's almost like i was seeking them. It felt masochistic in a way. I was looking for her there, knowing i would only feel empty. Like i needed to get to that place of pain. It just made me sad. I ended up calling Diana and tia Emilia and i managed to turn from on the verge of tears to joking about sleeping in Macy's overnight. My mom and i would have had a BALL. We were both such night owls. I would have made her go with me in the middle of the night, just for the fun of it.

I left Macy's at around 11:45 then went into Old Navy for about another hour. Bought fuzzy socks. Missed my mom.

I got a great phone message from E.J. who was on his way to VT, to be with his family for the holidays. He always tells me that my mom is with me and that i'm not alone. Tonight he said, "you'll never be alone." I really like that.

Sometimes i'm just tired of crying.

Last night leaving tia B's apartment i had a a really scary moment. A woman walking toward me, at about 50 feet way, in a black coat, looked JUST like my mom. With her beautiful reddish wavy hair. Walked like her, was the same size, it was HER walking toward me. It freaked the hell out of me. As the woman got closer i saw that she had on a fur-trimmed hood, not beautiful wavy reddish hair. I immediately looked away because i did not want to see her as she got close. I did not want to see that it WASN'T my mother. I started to cry.

I'm getting good at getting teary in the streets. I feel it, just a few tears roll down my checks and then i breathe it out.

I can't wait for Christmas to be over. Last year was terrible. Christmas Day in the ER, my mom in terrible pain, unable to tell the date and unaware of who her sister was. It terrified me to think that she would stay that way but thankfully when we stopped the Fentanyl she was no longer so horribly disoriented.
I'm going to be so tired and sick tomorrow. I do NOT want to go to sleep but i'll fall asleep at around 6:30am and then panic that i'll oversleep that last hour.

Gonna set the alarm now.

Snow is making me depressed.
Another first.
First snow without mom.
Brings back memories of all our snowfalls together.
The same view outside the window of this apartment, but different view on the inside.
I woke up today and turned on my lightbox. Had breakfast, put a dvd on, surfed the web, played with my bird. I considered doing laundry but i really didn't have the energy. I looked up at the window and noticed that the first flakes were starting to fall. It was 1:59 pm. Wow, those weather.com people are accurate, i thought to myself.
And then i got sad because it's snowing and i'm alone and my mom is gone from this world.
The dismaying thing is how deeply the hurt is every time something like this happens. I know i'm sad, but then something happens to make me SO sad. It's like falling back down into the hole.
I slept for the rest of the afternoon.
Have done absolutely nothing today but half-watch dvds and look for the freaking Muppet Movie online. I can't find it anywhere and it's the one movie i really want to see.

I considered going to Macy's for a minute. I was looking at boots online earlier. I need snow/cold weather boots. Looked at so many sites and didn't see any that i really liked AND could afford. I got a terrible pang of pain and longing looking at boots because that's something i associate with my mom, too. We won't go boots shopping ever again. We did it every year. Part of me doesn't want to do it because she's not here.

I feel like i'm so black and white. I'm waiting for the gray. I think that if my mom is gone then i don't feel like making any decisions that relate to continuing to live. I'm living but do i really care about what boots i have or whether i'm warm or whether i eat or whether i finish college or whether i have a better job? Not right now. Sometimes i care for a few hours or a day. And then it goes away.
I'm waiting for the day i care about what happens to me, by myself.

Celebrate me home

That song makes me think of the cheesy version that Ruben Studdard recorded one year for American Idol. Probably one of the worst "goodbye" songs they ever had.
Anyway.
Tonight was our Fight Club holiday season celebration: a celebration of us! I forget who put it that way, but it was so good.
We were missing Sara, sadly, but we're planning on photoshopping her into our group photo. Whoever suggested that was genius.
We saw Elizabeth who we hadn't seen in a while. She said that it felt like coming home to her, to be with us tonight and that she was so glad she made it, even if she couldn't stay for the whole time. Lovely Elizabeth gave us each her and Myles' holiday card and that was just great and so sweet. I hardly ever get any cards (probably because i hardly ever send any, lol) so this is especially sweet coming from one of my "sisters." It's a gorgeous card and they are such a gorgeous couple. We always say how much we love knowing that Elizabeth has Myles. (And that Myles has Elizabeth).

Then Kerri said that she had something for us, too. So she whips out some cute little bundles that have each of our names on them and starts handing them out. I look at her and go, "wait, did you make this?" Leave it to Kerri to knit each of us our very own, different colored scarf! The cutest part is that she handed out cards immediately after and my card has a short piece of yarn in it that's a preview of my scarf, because she hasn't finished mine yet since the yarn is finer. But it's turquoise! It's so gorgeous. And it's a color i've been wearing more and more in the past couple of years (right, Georgia?). I especially love all my turquoise earrings.

I think that my mom used to discourage me from wearing blue and green when i was younger because she didn't think it looked good with my skin color but in recent years i did start wearing it and showed her that yes, it did look good with my skin color.

So that was just so amazing of Kerri and crazy sweet. Alison told us that Kerri's a good liar because they had had a knitting afternoon at Alison's apartment a couple of weekends ago, and Kerri told her that she was knitting scarves for some coworkers or some people, i forget. Clever.
Fran's is black, but a sparkly black. Brianne's is kinda pumpkin colored. Cara's is a lovely chick yellow. Elizabeth's is a gorgeous blue and white variegated color. Jenna's is like grass green. Alison's is like a raspberry. I told Alison that it's a similar color to my first scarf that i knitted, the "red and green" one that my mom lost in the street when she wore it one day.

I love my holiday card from Kerri, too, because it's of the Christmas tree at Rockefeller center and it has glitter all over it. My mom so loved to glitter-ize her Christmas cards and this made me think of her. Plus i have such fond memories of our day spent at Rockefeller Center taking pics with tia Emilia, mom and me.

I wanted so badly to show my mom the cards. Or to tell her about the scarves. I want so badly to tell her about my Fight Club and how wonderful each of the girls is and how much i love them. Dr. Hirsh and E.J. would say, "go ahead and tell her." Well, i'm not there yet but at least i know that a) she would be happy for me, and b) she would absolutely LOVE the girls (and she'd probably tell me to be more like them, actually).

Dr. Hirsh told me last week that i was a normal daughter. That getting impatient with my mom or some of the other stuff that i feel like an asshole about now is actually normal. And he asked me to give myself credit for taking care of her at the end. I feel like it's shameful that it took my mom's illness for me to be the daughter that she wanted me to be. But at least i keep repeating to myself that i wasn't always an asshole, i was normal, too.

I talked to Cara about guilt at length after we said goodbye to Jenna. They still feel guilt from their surviving parent and i still feel guilt about my mom dying and me not giving her the life i would have wanted for her. My whole plan was to take care of her and have money and take her places and do fun stuff and show her the world as i see it. But our time was cut short.

We all agreed tonight that the holidays suck. Celebration all around and some of us are "celebrating" one year anniversaries of our loved ones' death, some of us are reliving our loved ones last days and hospital stays. Some of us are trying to stay sane while the world around us tries to make Christmas, or Hanukkah, or the "season" happen.

Gretchen, stop trying to make the holiday season happen! It's not going to happen!

Brian asked me today in the kitchen how i'm doing with the holidays and if i'm having a hard time. I said yes, i don't want to celebrate. Immediately he said, what would your mom want? I couldn't believe that he asked me first of all, and i couldn't believe that he asked about my mom. I just responded, "celebrate." Then he told me about his post-holiday party and how it's fun and how it doesn't have to be awkward.

I thought about that all afternoon and evening. Nobody asks me that. And nobody has asked me that recently. He's the only one at work who seems to have remembered that my mom died and maybe i'm sad about it now.
Well, Cynthia always asks me anyway and i adore her and she's like a mom, which is why i'll always defend her when people talk smack about her. She's crazy but caring, like nobody else.

Uh oh, i need my beauty sleep. Tomorrow night i'm taking tia Beatriz, tia Emilia, Carol and Diana to see "Burn the Floor" starring Maksim Chmerovsky and Kym Johnson. It's my Christmas present to all of them. I'm looking forward to them enjoying it a lot. I'd like to think that if my mom were alive i'd have taken her to see it and she would have loved it.

I saw "Everybody's Fine," on Sunday night with Dana and Corey. E.J. was great, very, very funny and the audience laughed. But the movie is so freaking sad. I mean, it's so touching and it's so harsh in that it depicts real, complex parent-child relationships as well as grief and coming to terms with the truth about who we really are. I think i might watch it again on dvd, i liked it that much, but it might be too sad. I cried through nearly the entire movie.

Dennis Lehane, Shutter Island, speaks to me:

He thought of what Cawley had said to him.

It's not a matter of if. It's a matter of when.

Was he suicidal?

He supposed he was. He couldn't remember a day since Dolores's death when he hadn't thought of joining her, and it sometimes went further than that. Sometimes he felt as if continuing to live was an act of cowardice. What was the point of buying groceries, of filling the Chrysler tank, of shaving, putting on socks, standing in yet another line, picking a tie, ironing a shirt, washing his face, combing his hair, cashing a check, renewing his license, reading the paper, taking a piss, eating - alone, always alone - going to a movie, buying a record, paying bills, shaving again, washing again, sleeping again, waking up again...
...if none of it brought him closer to her?


He knew he was supposed to move on. Recover. Put it behind him. His few stray friends and few stray relatives had said as much, and he knew that if he were on the outside looking in, he would tell that other Teddy to buck up and suck in your gut and get on with the rest of your life.


But to do that, he'd have to find a way to put Dolores on a shelf, to allow her to gather dust in the hope that enough dust would accumulate to soften his memory of her. Mute her image. Until one day she'd be less a person who had lived and more the dream of one.

Like going home

So the problem is being alone. Maybe "problem" isn't the right word.
The pain is loud, sharp, blinding and heavy when i'm alone.
In the past few weeks i've experienced enjoyable times with my aunts, my friends, my coworkers. I'm laughing, engaged, responding, empathizing, caring, and feeling alive.
Then i say goodbye and i walk off by myself and every single object in my sight makes me aware of my mom's absence and i can go in one of two directions:
1) remember being an asshole to my mom and regret not being able to do today what i didn't do then
2) remember something fun or sweet or happy about my mom that makes me furious and heartbroken that she has to be gone.

On Friday night i was riding the bus on Broadway back home from Jes' apartment and i found myself having the strangest mental conversation with the streets. All of Broadway is dressed up in holiday lights and there are Christmas tree stands about every 4 blocks (so it seems). I stared at those decorations and multicolored lights and thought, "who said you're allowed to be there? My mom's not here, you're not allowed to be decorations." I passed the tree stands and thought, "what right do you have to be there? My mom loved wreaths, she loved these tree stands, those are supposed to be for her. She's not here and neither should you be."
Everything about Christmas and winter in NY that i love, or thought i loved, doesn't make sense knowing that my mother is not here. There's a part of me that really doesn't understand why the holiday season is here. How can it exist without my mother? How is that possibly fair at all, in any world in the universe, at any point in time?

So unfair, so unfair. That's how i feel outside. I told Fran on Tuesday that i think about when we started our group on May 6 this year. She was where i am now. Around 8 months. And it is getting harder. It's by no means getting easier. I don't cry maybe as much as i did in the very beginning, but i've really had more of the waves that i read about with grief. I've got it together, i can do this, i can go on. I can't handle this, there is no point to life, this pain is going to kill me. It's like a clock, going around and around. I have faith that i will survive and thrive because other people do. I just don't have any plans.

Dr. Hirsh gave me a lightbox which i hope helps me. I've only used it once so far. I took it to work but it was too bright and too disturbing for my work environment, so i brought it back home.
After my session 2 Wednesdays ago, i walked from 9th street to 42nd street, in the light rain, with my hood up and my scarf up under my eyes and i cried the whole way. It was great. I mean, i didn't feel great, but to be able to cry in the rain at night, out in the open air, that felt like such a release. It's not the first time i've cried in the rain. It might be one of my favorite things to be able to do.
I spent almost all of last weekend with my aunts and it was really great. I enjoyed it but i was also keenly aware of the fact that being with them didn't equal to being with my mom and that's what i wanted to replicate. I still love being with them, hanging out at Macy's, talking about my mom. But whenever i say goodbye and head home i feel a tremendous emptiness. It's like filling the void temporarily works but then when it's emptied again it's even a deeper, more painful void.

Being alone in the apartment is getting sadder. Coming home is sadder. Once i'm here i just keep the radio on and play dvds so that i'm not stuck in silence.

On Tuesday i met with Fran and Alison and as i was walking toward the Moonstruck diner, i thought to myself, it's like i'm going home. Going to a Fight Club night is an instant comfort. It's knowing i'm going somewhere where people care and i care and i can tell the truth about my feelings and they'll get it and i'll get it when they tell me. That feeling of sharing thoughts and feelings and connecting in a way you don't connect ANYWHERE else is...like going home.