Five minutes ago I'm cleaning the bathroom counter, just minding my fucking business. And now I'm sobbing. Not crying, not all teary, I'm sobbing.
Because grief is just fucked up, my friends. I'm can't sugarcoat this for you. It's the truth, and if you've grieved some major people, you will get this.
It's a chain reaction for me today. I smell the antibacterial cleaner, I've used it many times before, and something about the smell today makes me think man, this smells like hospital. Like a clean yet unpleasant sort of smell.
So like boom boom boom, the associations pummel me. Mom in the hospital in January of 2014, knowing she was not going to live, not wanting to leave the hospital because she knew she was going home to die and that my brother and I would be the ones caring for her, maybe thinking the longer she stayed in the hospital might give her one more day with us, or just one more day that we weren't changing IV fluid bags or giving her blood thinner injections.
And I'm just flattened. Not only because she's gone and I can't even explain how much I miss her and how much I need her and how much I want to pick up the phone and talk to her like we did several times a day. I can tell you, I miss my mommy, but you can't get it, unless, unfortunately, you've been there, lost that. But my heart also breaks because I hate that she felt that. That she knew she would have to leave us and her granddaughters. I hate it, so much, more than I have ever hated anything. And today, smelling that fucking stupid antibacterial cleaner brings it all back and I'm crying more than I've cried in months.
This after having a pretty good productive morning, one of those when I felt so unproductive that my productivity was making me feel all proud and stuff. And then I had to go and clean the counter and use that stuff and not the lavender cleaner that wouldn't have me here, typing all of this and blowing my nose.
So it's fucked up. And a friend who is grieving recently posted something on Facebook about how it comes in waves and that on that day she was drowning. And some days you are doing that. Just drowning. So right now, in this moment, my head is under water.
And I'm not writing for sympathy, I'm writing because I needed to write it down. Because you people are part of how I deal with this bullshit. I write it down and I post it because I like to create and I like to perform and I like to connect with people. Especially people who get it and they go oh fuck, that happened to me just last week. I'm not alone because Jen cleaned her stupid fucking sink and then missed her mom so badly that she felt like a broken mess. I'm not alone.
Now I've done this, I'm going to share it, I'm going to blow my nose and put on some makeup and go to lunch because I have lunch plans, and while I'm there I'm going to laugh and eat and have a good time, and then I'm going to pick up the kid and hug her about eight billion times. And I'll be smiling because I've already cried and I got this out and as I always say, if I spent the entire day crying Mom would be so pissed. Like, what the fuck are you doing? I get it, I was awesome, you miss me, but you're alive, live some life.
So I'll do that