Always left behind
Whenever someone asks me to tell about a time in my life when I was really happy, I immediately think about a certain picture. There is me. There is daddy. There is mommy. I am about 5, they're holding my hands, and I'm smiling.
I have no memories of that day, but I just KNOW I was happy.
And then, life begins.
My grandparents all died before I was even 5.
When I was 6, it was my dad's turn - cancer due to asbestos.
For 19 years of my life, it was just me and mum alone.
She had to raise me by herself, and had never really overcome my father's death. Nor had I, truth to be told.
It was a sort of taboo in my house, and we never really talked much about it. I knew she resented him, and I knew she always thought I was fine, because I never cried about it.
But I wasn't fine, and she wasn't fine, but we lived.
My mother wasn't one for social gatherings, nor parties, nor celebrations.
I never walked inside a restaurant with her, if not for very important events. Never went for a walk that hadn't a purpose, like grocery shopping. Almost never went on holiday.
She was my shell.
She almost suffocated me at times, and she never let me do things most of my peers did. Never a sleepover, not many parties. No going on holiday with my friends when I was a teenager.
But I never really complained, because I thought that my life was good, and perfect and that I was lucky.
And then, I was 20 or so, all the emotions I had kept bottled for 14 years nearly exploded.
I was angered, depressed, I was sad.
I missed my dad for the first time in 14 years.
And mum started to believe she had done something wrong.
In the heat of the moment I maybe blamed her for things that weren't entirely my fault, but she did the same.
My perfection started to become imperfect.
Then 5 years on and off - I went from a great student, to one who fell three years behind in university. I just wanted to do nothing, because I had no motivation to go on. I don't have many friends. Never had many to begin with.
I have no job, no university degree.
And, finally, two weeks or so ago.
August 6th, 2012.
My mum had had a few health problems, recently.
A problem with her knee, which was nothing serious, and only needed rest - then a reaction to a medicine, but again nothing much. And then a bad, bad cough, with throwing up - something we were used to, she had delicate airways.
It went on for about a week.
The doctor was supposed to come on August 6th, early in the morning, to see why she didn't want to eat, or why her cough was so bad.
During the same time, I was told again my dog needed to ungergo surgery AGAIN for cancer and so (and I will always be guilty for this), I was a little more worried about her, than about mum - mum was strong, and then doctors had seen her TWICE and said it was okay.
I checked on her every hour or so, even at night, to make sure she was alive.
I did it every night, minus that night.
She had coughed a lot, but then the cough had subsided, thanks to a few cough suppressant drops, just like the other days.
I was talking a friend about my dog, about how I worried too much - about my stupid problems.
And, in the meanwhile, she was dying.
She died in her sleep due to natural causes.
I found her at 5.30 AM - I just wanted to wake her up, and ask her about the doctor, you know, what time she would come home to visit her, and what I needed to do.
But she was already cold, and rigid, and even if I tried to revive her, it was way too late.
I kissed her hands, and cried, and screamed in the middle of the night.
My friend who was there held me back - I tried to commit suicide like 4 times in the 45 minutes we had to wait for the ambulance.
I sliced my arm open, I hopped on the railing of my balcony and tried to jump down, I started bumping my head hard against the wall.
My family reached me the following day.
They said they wanted to help me clean the house, because I had been so busy tending to mum, lately, that everything was a mess - and we had a sick dog in too, so the problems tenfolded.
My keys disappeared, a few money I had in a box disappeared, and I had to hurriedly change the lock to make sure my relatives couldn't break in.
Up to now, I still don't know how many things are really missing.
So, my family, instead of helping me, robbed me.
They blamed me for my mum's death, they didn't even give money for her funeral - I had to pay it all myself, with about 1/3 of mum's savings.
They said I had kidnapped my mum, because she used to tell them that she didn't want to go to their gatherings because of me ("She's young, she would have no one to talk to."), when she just didn't want to be around those people. I was okay with taking the blame, if it was for mum's wellbeing.
They said I didn't care, because I asked them to organize the funeral - but I was too shaken, I was on anti-anxiety medication, and I am an atheist, while mum was a fervent catholic, like them. They would surely know better about a standard catholic ritual. And then, I paid every single cent of it. And yet, according to them, I didn't care.
They said that I was not normal, beacuse I wasn't crying in front of them. They said I was "selfish and concerned about myself" because I was brought by my friends to a psychologist, due to my suicide attemps and suicidal plans. He even said I shouldn't attend the funeral, due to my conditions, but I was forced to attend, to avoid a major fight with my relatives.
Since then, I have cried maybe 10 times, for just a couple of minutes each time.
I have accepted her death, I think - I have found her, I have tried to relieve her, I was there to see her body...
And yet, I don't cry.
I feel sad, hollow. I don't want to live this life.
I have no job, little money to go on (maybe a few months?), but I'm obviously not in the right state of mind. I can't work, nor study right now. I always loved writing, and I'm trying to work on my comic novel, the one I cared so much about, before...but right now...
A friend of mine has been living with me and mum, for the last few years (he was closer to his job, this way), and always contributed to the expenses. He can provide for me, for the time being - my mum was a bit like his mum too, for the last 5 years.
I see nothing worth living for, right now.
My dad abandoned me. My mum abandoned me.
I keep dreaming that they tell me it's all a huge mistake, and that mum is alive and well. I hug her in my dreams, and I say the same exact things I used to tell her in real life "Please, take care of your health, mum, please, I don't want to lose you. I can do only this much, but the rest is up to you."...
And then, I wake up, and reality hits me.
I have begged her multiple times.
To take some days off from work, to take care about herself... and she always blamed me.
"If only you had your university degree, I could slow down.", or "If only you helped me more..."
And so I tried my best.
My university studies were going good again, after 3 years of almost nothing. I cleaned the housed and cooked all by myself, even if she never ate any of my food.
She didn't even want to try it.
And now I feel guilty.
If only I had checked more often on her that night, too.
If only I hadn't felt depressed for 5 years, and had completed university.
If only, if only...
My life has lost all meaning now.
And what I'm scared about, is that it will get worse day by day. I have resisted many, many losses already in my life. More than you can imagine. And this is just the final blow.
I don't want to miss her anymore than I'm already doing.
I hardly ever eat, I can't sleep more than 4 hours, and am I just... the shadow of the positive, energetic girl that I was.
I just want this to end.
Will luck ever turn my way?
I am only 25.
And I have already endured what most people will endure in a whole lifetime - my grandparents died, my father, my mother, who was only 64. My family robbing me. My best friend disappearing.
I can't just take any more pain.
I just can't.
Thanks for reading, and good luck to everyone.