Let's face it, the past 2 years have been shit! Fucking dumpster fires at best. But, at the same time, I've learned an awful lot about myself. I don't know if I would be in the same healthy place if it weren't for the hell these past months have brought me.
As you may or not know, death has visited my family once too often in the past 2 years. I lost my mother, 2 aunts and my father. I was still in the throes of grief from one, when the next one died. I don't know how to properly explain the loss of a parent, but losing both left me feeling like an orphan. I was emotionally blowing in hurricane force winds.
However, with my mother's death came this very queer sense of relief. You see, I had spent nearly all of my life scared to death of my mother dying. She suffered from paranoid schizophrenia, and had attempted suicide at least three times when I was growing up. So, I was desperately afraid she was going to leave me. That fear carried into adulthood, even as she became stable.
When she died, however, that fear was realized, and I was left with a "now what?" kind of feeling. I was angry with her for leaving me. I did feel abandoned. I had to comfort the child inside me, and tell her everything was going to be okay. I did grieve very hard for her for several months. I had to go back into therapy once a week just to deal with my emotions because I had no one else to talk to.
To top it off, with the virus situation, we could not have a memorial service for her. So, she never got a proper send off. Perhaps, when things clear up, we can have a family gathering and toast to her afterlife.
I became a different person when my mom died. After I stopped crying, I decided that I was on my own for the most part. I had lost my cheerleader. I had to be my own cheerleader. So, I cheered. I got a new job, which turned out to be horrible. I sold insurance, and not very well. But I got a different job at Amazon. Plus, I still had my dad.
I started calling him more often. His voice was deep and smooth, and it soothed my soul like honey on a sore throat. He and I had brief but loving conversations. I didn't get so much as advice from him, but I would tell him what was what, and he'd comment accordingly.
Then one day, he was gone. He contracted COVID, but didn't make it. He had what he thought was a cold, but by the end of the weekend he was in the hospital. He was in Michigan, so I didn't get to see him. I talked to his doctor several times, and she basically said that he was dying. Even with treatment he only had a 10% chance. Dad, however, did not want the ventilator or any of it. He said he was tired and he couldn't fight it. So, the hospital arranged a Zoom call, and we said our goodbyes around 8pm on January 5, 2021. On January 6, 2021 at 2:38 am he took his last breath.
I think the only thing I regret about both their deaths is that I wasn't there to hold their hands and kiss them goodbye. Other than that, it's fine. I have them both here with me in my room. They watch over things. They have come to visit from time to time. Not often, but when I really need them. So, I guess I must be doing something right.
What have I learned about myself these past 2 years? Well, for one thing, I'm much stronger than I thought I was. I can survive a crisis, even thrive. I look at myself with a new confidence. It's not where I want it to be, but it's coming along. I finally believe my mother when she told me I was beautiful. I also know, I made my parents proud.
So, the girl looking back at me is strong, confident, brave, and beautiful. No one can take that away from me. I don't care what people think about me anymore. I am simple, yet complicated. I am fire and ice, pure and devilish, playful but serious. Also, if you cross me, I can be a bitch. This girl is on fire, and her flame burns bright. One day the whole world will know my name. Just wait. - B
