You can't escape, but some days you just feel broken.

My cousin took me to the beach this weekend to get away. It was a pretty calm and quiet weekend. We enjoyed ourselves. I was able to sit on the beach, enjoy the sand between my toes, the sound of the ocean, and reading on my kindle. But sometimes I feel like I can't do the simple easy stuff so easily. I can't concentrate on what I'm reading, or I re read the same page a few times before realizing it. I think I appear to be okay most of the time, so people sometimes think I am. But I'm not. I'm appreciative for how nice people have been to me throughout this ordeal. But it's hard for me to believe people are relatable to what I'm going through. Sure you've lost a parent. But you aren't/weren't 26, with 3 younger siblings. Do you know how hard that is? My dad commented a few days ago and said how it sometimes feel like my mom never existed. It was like she died and you can't remember her even being in the house. It's such a horrible and weird feeling, because you know that feeling isn't real. You know what was real, you can remember her voice, the way she screamed your name, the way she smelled, the ridiculously loud way she sneezed (that always seemed to make me angry), the great food she would cook, the awesome brownies she made, and most of all how hard and wonderfully she loved all of us. Going away was great for me, but I can't run away from what happened. I still can't sleep, even down there I slept three hours and I was wide awake. I have meds to help me sleep but I didn't take them and I don't really like taking them, and most of the time they don't work well. I hate how, two weeks later, I'm still so un-functionable. I miss my old, crazy, but normal life. My job, my work friends, coming home and hanging out with my mom, taking my nephew out and enjoying myself, looking forward to a quiet weekend. Now I feel like I can't perform the easiest task because my head is still so scrambled up. I can't remember where I sat something, a normal word to describe something, and just normal stuff. I can't remember. And I just miss her so much it hurts. My heart is broken into tiny shards that float throughout my body and rip and tear up all of my insides. That's how it feels. But I'm so great at pretending I'm okay. I think I might look into a grief support group just for shits and giggles. Maybe it will help to meet someone going through the same thing that I am. But I'll get better, it's just going to take some time I guess. And eventually I'll be able to get back to all of my new normal stuff. It's just hard to look that far ahead. I hate looking days ahead. It's so fucking depressing. I just want my mom to comes back. I can't live a life without her. I need her to take care of me. I know I'm 26, but I still need her. I have so much to tell her, advice to ask for, and I need her to tell me when I'm making stupid decisions. I need that so much. I know parent's get on their kids nerves all of the time, but please don't take that for granted. At Christmas time I thought well this will not be her last Christmas, no way! She was doing so well with treatment. She went shopping, wrapped presents, and still cooked food for Christmas. She was fine! And now I feel like such a fucking asshole for not treasuring that moment, that time, that holiday with her more. I'll never get to sit and watch her wrap presents while I watch Christmas vacation. We'll never go shopping together while she spends my dad's money, knowing full well he was going to shit a brick when he received the credit card bill. And Mother's Day? I don't want any parts of that. I don't think I'll leave my bed that day. Writing all of this stuff down makes me feel better, and I think it gives people a better insight to the struggle that I face every day. This Saturday is her memorial service at church. I'm writing the Eulogy to give. I never thought I'd say that. Until the next jumble of thoughts spill.