What hurts the most.

It never fails. Multiple times a week, I lay in bed with my mother's image in my head. I always see her in the hospital and in her casket. I hear her laughing. I see her smiling. I feel her pain. I want to hold her. God, all I want to do is hold her.

Why couldn't I help her? I know the bottle was always before me, but I don't care anymore. Every problem she ever had is so minute now. I just want to help her. I want to hold her and help her heal. I want to help her fight the demons she had, and be my mother. I want the mother I always wanted, back.


I guess this is a feeling I will always have, but on a regular basis (sometimes daily) I see a mother and daughter and have so many emotions run through me, it puts my body in shock for a moment. The initial tinge is usually jealousy. I still don't get why that girl gets to have a mother, and I don't. Obviously I was a terrible person in my past life for God to deny me the most important relationship a female can have. Anger comes with the jealousy. It's so hard for me to admit this, but I'm angry at God. Who wouldn't be if they had the only thing they ever wanted in this world dangled in front of their face everyday? Anger usually lingers a little while. At this point in my day, my entire mood changes. I'm angry at everyone, everyone, that is, that has a mother. This mood change is noticeable to basically anyone who spends any amount of time with me on a weekly basis. (My father obviously does not fall in this category.) Everyone notices, but nobody knows why. "Why in the world is this crazy girl so mad now?" Yeah, just because I want a mom. No biggie.


Confusion, happiness, nausea, fear, envy, shame, loneliness all come at some point, as well. Sometimes after anger, sometimes during. I'm confused as to why I don't deserve her. I'm happy for the girl who has her. I'm sick to my stomach for not having her. I'm afraid I'll never be her, or worse, not be good at being her. I envy the life the other girl has with her. I'm ashamed I don't have her. I'm lonely without her. I'm lonely.


I hate myself for hating her when I did have her on Earth. Well, I didn't hate her. I hated her problems, and I took it out on her. What kind of daughter doesn't give her phone number to her mother? Even if she had wanted me to help her the night she died, she couldn't have contacted me. How fucked up am I?? I would get so mad when my aunt brought her around me. I felt so deceived and lied to. Now I just feel like a total bitch with no heart.


Maybe I don't have a heart. Maybe that's what's really wrong with me.


I dig so hard in my memory for any happy moment with her. I remember singing Shaina Twain and dancing around the living room. I remember laying in bed with her for days when I was sick. I remember her letting me drive in her lap when I was, like, 9.

But mostly, I remember being so mean to her. At the one dance she helped me get ready for in jr. high, I was mean. What I wouldn't give now to have her help me get ready for anything. But she'll never help me get ready again. Not for my graduation, or my wedding, or becoming a mother, or my children's birthdays, or their graduations and weddings. Nothing.

The last time I saw her alive I was mean to her. My aunt and I had scheduled a playdate, and she was there. I was so mad. WHY THE FUCK WAS I MAD?? She was SO HAPPY to see her grandson and her daughter, and all I could think about was my aunt not telling me she would be there. I never wanted to touch her. Like if I touched her, I would become an alcoholic too. God, I fucking hate myself. She was always so soft. Her hands were beautiful. She was beautiful. She is the most beautiful woman I've ever known.

My last words to her that day were i love you.


The pain I felt before she died was bad. I had the same experience when I saw mothers and daughters then, but I always told myself, one day, that would be us.
The pain I feel now is absolutely indescribable. I never knew what real pain was until she died. I always thought I was "sad" and "depressed". And I really think I was. I know I was. But that was nothing compared to this. That was a pain that would ease up when I surrounded myself with other women. This pain, now, only gets stronger with other women around. And it's constant.


At no point in any day do I not miss my mother.


You know when people say, "You won't have your mom forever. You should let her know you love her while she's here." I want to just shake myself for not listening. I know I'm young, and young people do stupid things, but why? Why didn't I just listen?? And I want to shake all the other young idiots who take advantage of what they have too. I know she sees how much I miss her now and how much I love her, but I would give my life for one day to show her. Why in the hell did I never take her to get a pedicure? Or to lunch? Or to the movies? Or to the zoo? God, she would have loved the zoo. She would have been fucking thrilled to do anything with me. And I was too fucking dumb to see it.


One good thing has come from her dying. I now realize I am just like my mother. And I couldn't be one bit more pleased. I always knew we were similar, but now I see I am her. I am her deep love for animals. I am her strong will. I am her constant need to argue. I am her always right, never wrong. I am her constant need to help others. I am her giving to a fault. I am her love for nature. I am her love for simple things. I am her humor. I am her clutter and need to keep things. I am her loving for shopping. I am her unwillingness to hear no. I am her stubbornness. I am her driving skills. I am her blonde moments. I am her forgetfulness. I am her compassion for the needy. I am her chin. I am her hands. I am her smile. I am her beauty. I am her love.

I am everything but her disease.

But that was also her gift to me. To teach me how to take control of my life and my decisions, and make better ones than she did. She taught me what addiction looks like and how much it hurts, not only yourself, but everyone involved. She showed me what I don't want to end up like....what I won't end up like.


People always tell me I look like my dad, and I see that. But I think I look more like my mom.