Since You've Been Gone

Note: I'm typing out this post on my phone, rather than a computer, so please forgive any formatting errors.

My mom died 2 years and 3 months ago. More specifically, she ended her life 2 years and 3 months ago. I miss her. I want so much to talk to her, to tell her all about what's happened since she's been gone. Does cyberspace transfer to the afterlife?

I realize, two years later, that something was born in me when my mother died. Not right away; there was a long gestational period. At first, I was in functional shock, both at having lost her and at my new reality.  This reality included having money, and quite a bit of it. One less thing to worry about, because I had plenty of other things to occupy my thoughts.

The thing that was born became viable while I sat nearly comatose for about 9 months (oddly enough).  It was fed with PTSD, depression and the accompanying hopelessness. It was fed with realizations that I would not do the things I thought I would do if only given chance. It was fed with worry for my daughter and her own series of internal crises. During this time I also had to fight external battles, or rather, one very big external battle. I didn't handle it well.

 I spent much of my time trying to evade intrusive, repetitive thoughts and memories from the circumstances surrounding my mother's death.  I did this by numbing my brain with literally the dumbest shows one can binge. I did this by decorating virtual houses on an app while my own house became a cluttered mess, echoing my state of mind. I gained about 35 pounds, half of which I've thankfully now lost.

My gestation period was long. It was soul sucking and left me reeling. It took me about a year and a half to pull myself free of the tangled mass that fed me like the roots of a tree. But like a tree, I grew. I grew taller, stronger, finally glimpsing heights I didn't think I'd ever see. I had to shake off the dust and dirt that had settled during my sedentary period.

 About the beginning of this year, fresh from 6 months of weekly therapy and having dipped my toes into working again, I was nearly ready to reemerge. But to where? I was terrified to rejoin a life already lived, business as usual.

A longtime, dear friend offered to me a suggestion. He had been attending a series of "self help" seminars and thought it would be transforming for me. Right place, right time, and I was receptive to his suggestion. I signed up. I am not naming the seminar because this isn't a sales pitch. I paid the fee and awaited my March seminar.

I also began looking for a full time job, as my two part time jobs would not be enough to pay the bills once my nest egg dwindled. Synchronicity and serendipity helped out and a new friend recommended me for a position with a company I had wanted to work for, and had previously applied to. She got my foot in the door, and I got myself hired.

Confidence was building in me once more, I realized within my first few weeks that I was not the same person I was when I held a similar position with a different company a few years earlier. This was a good thing. I felt driven. The ensuing seminar built on this and added (and removed) layers, layers I didn't know existed. Birth was happening.

Really, and I'm realizing this now, the me that was born was the me I really was, void of the bullshit and lies I told myself. I had been forced to look honestly at my broken pieces, to shine a light in all my dark places. A terrifying yet necessary thing to do.  But once done, it's less scary. It becomes EMPOWERING.

I could no longer rely on the excuses that had carried me thus far. My relationship with my mom was complicated, it was as troubled as it was loving. Those that know me well knew my emotional well being suffered as a frequent and direct result of dealing with my mom, or rather, my mom's mental illness.

Though she was gone, her shadow still lingered. I still yearned for her approval and acceptance. Anything I did, I would run through the filter of her predictable reactions, good or bad.

 In the beginning, I heard her lecture me about my foolish financial decisons. Two years on, I visualize her beaming with pride at my accomplishments. Both are actual bullshit. Yet it persists.

I'm still trying to find myself in who I know I am. For years, for 40 years to be exact, I defined myself by how my mom defined me. This was obviously problematic but even more so because of my mother's Borderline Personality Disorder.  One of the trademarks of BPD is black and white thinking... either all good or all bad. I was always either the devil or a perfect angel. There was no grey.  But I looked to her for that constant and changing definition. I didn't know who I was until she told me. That's a hardwired habit to break.

 In many ways I'm still looking for her to define me, hence the automatic mom-app I have going on in my brain to filter all life events through.

It's getting better.  Mostly it becomes a daydream of a conversation that would most likely take place, and usually about positive things. I know she would be over the moon with pride to the point of bursting in regards to my relatively new job as a Team Leader. I can hear her excitedly giving me leadership advice (which I would welcome. She was a tremendous leader in her career). I can hear her excited shouts and hand claps as I tell her that (finally) her grandaughter is living with me full time.  I can almost feel her jubilation as I inform her that I'm dating a "nice Jewish boy".

I hardly ever hear admonishment anymore. And yes, I've studied enough psychology to know that it's ME, all me, reflecting these judgments back on me.

But since she's been gone, I've learned more about who I am, and who I'm not. Those judgements (good or bad) are with us all. I've been given the opportunity to deeply examine this, but it's available to everyone. I suppose it's a very Zen way of thinking, to strive to be judgement free especially in regards to one's self.  The truth, I think, is maybe there is no "good" and there is no "bad". I am not good. I am not bad.
I just am.

I just AM