Daily Post 126: Surprisingly Good


Today turned into a surprisingly good day.


I was supposed to meet with my younger brother, an event I was actually having hardcore anxiety over. Those plans ended up falling through…


Canceled plans = introvert’s wet dream


I didn’t go to class yesterday due to the day being a “hard” day. I still have them. It’s still under the four-month mark. I’m allowed to have them, “hard” days, and I know no one has told me otherwise. I’m more typing that as affirmation for myself.


But yeah, yesterday was really hard and lame, and when I actually got around to taking a shower at 4pm in the afternoon that simple action alone hurt so much that I ended up crying through most of it. I didn’t eat until close to 7pm because going out into the world to find food seemed overwhelming. The thought I kept having was all of it was pointless.  Mom isn’t here anymore so why do it? Why shower? Why eat? She won’t be here for her birthday. How can I do anything when I don’t know how I’m going to make it past Thursday?


I did shower though, even though it was one of the hardest things I’ve had to do in a while. I did go out and spent time with Randy and Em, which helped. I hepled to paint a little which gave my brain something to do. I got to spend some time with Scarlet and got cat cuddles into my day. I talked to Mother Earth and Josh which  continued to help, and by the end of the night the overwhelming depression I was feeling had eased over and morphed back into the sad acceptance I have learned to breathe through. I wasn’t “happy” but I knew I could keep going. I’m still loved and supported and mom is still with me, just in a different way.


Even though I missed class yesterday I was able to catch back up easily today. Today’s class started touching on procedures I did while helping to care for mom in the hospital. It was different enough that I didn’t fully flash back to those situations, but similar enough that I had to confront some of the emotions. Inside my head I kept saying, “You aren’t mom. You are Maria. You are my classmate. You ARE NOT mom.”


Saying those words while I did the procedures helped me keep the emotions in check.


I got a lot figured out with the phone plan and the apartment. I don’t want to say anything further on the topics, but I’m hoping for everything to be resolved by the weekend.


I got to have conversations with some really amazing people in my life, all of who said they were proud of me and happy with the way things were turning out. Jason, Mother Earth, Warren #1, Chrys, Em, Sir.


I got to tell Jason about Jon’s email to me. I found out more information about mom’s estate and what’s going on with that. Everything should be finalized within the next two months.


I went to the gym and ran, which I haven’t done since getting back from Vegas last Monday. I did pretty well, though I had to cut it short since I got to the gym  pretty late. I got some upper body work in. Overall it was a light workout, but I’m happy with it. I could have just stayed in my room and not gone at all.


I got to make plans for tomorrow. The 28th. Mom’s birthday. I had imagined tomorrow would be hard. And I’m sure in some ways it will be still, but there are enough things to make it positive that I think I’ll be ok.


In class we’re going to be covering how to dress a patient and how to change an occupied bed. Both of those things were things I did with mom. Both of those things are important actions for me. To be honest, they are the procedures I’ve been worried about, fearing, the most. I know those actions are going to be hard for me to perform. It’s going to be the first time doing them since being at the hospital. It actually means a lot that I’ll be demonstrating those skills on mom’s birthday. Maybe it will be cathartic for me. That’s what I’m hoping for at least.


I want to do those things as a way to honor mom. As a way to show her that I’m still moving forward. That I’m trying to come to terms with her loss. That I’m still trying to help people. That I’m not letting my sadness control me and limit the things I’m able to do. I think that would make her happy. I think that’s the best birthday present I could give her.


I’m not going to stay at home tomorrow. I’m not going to skip class. I’m going to go. I’m going to confront whatever emotions I feel. My classmates and instructor know about my situation and I know they will be supportive and help me through it. And I know even if I cry during my turn that no one is going to judge me. They’ll let me cry, or walk away, or do whatever I need to do, and when I’m ready they’ll let me try again. They’ll let me try until I get through it, and that means a lot to me.


After class I have plans with Em. We’re going to go spend the day at the cold springs, something we’ve talked about doing for at least a month now. It’s her day off so we have no time limit. We’re going to stop and do lunch on the way there. We’ll most likely catch Pokemon while we walk the trails around the springs. We’ll be out in nature instead of inside. I won’t be alone in my room with only my thoughts to tear me to pieces. I’ll be around someone who will listen to me if I need to talk. Hug me if I cry. And laugh with me after the sadness passes.


I had thought today would be awful. I had thought tomorrow would be one of the hardest days for me to get through since mom died. I think the Universe, Mom, is helping me, and I’m grateful for it. I had thought I was going to get taken under by a giant wave of total bat-shit insane nonsense that is my life. But a lot of things are working out. A lot of things are starting to make sense. I’m starting to see the dots and how to connect them so things work out in a way that benefits me and those I care about.


Yesterday my grief was loneliness, confusion, hurt, and an almost unbearable feeling of weight.


Today my grief is gratefulness, sadness, relief, acceptance, and determination.


I’m a warrior. I will win. It will be hard. It will be worth it.


I’m actually looking forward to tomorrow, mom. I’ll make you proud. I’ll get through it. I’ll wake up and shower and go to kickboxing and have breakfast and go to class. And afterward, after I fight what will be one of the hardest battles emotionally that I’ve had to fight since losing you, I’m going to go enjoy the day like how you would want me to, by doing something that will make me happy.


I love you, mom. Thank you for looking out for me.



Daily Post 125: The Past Four Days


Warning: Unproof read blog due to tiredness : D


You would think in almost five days that I would have stuff I want to write about, and I guess I do but at 2 in the morning when I have to be up at 8 for class I’m not sure I’m feeling up to going into details.  Which means this is going to turn into a mini novel that I don’t get done writing until like… 4am or something. XD


Therapy was a good session on Thursday. I got to discuss my brother’s email to me about how I’ve been a bane to his existence. No I’m not exaggerating. If you want to read about it check out my previous post.


Basically, I came to the conclusion that I don’t have to burn for him, or for anyone for that matter. He’s family, true, but I have an obligation to myself first and foremost. If helping him endangers my own wellbeing then I owe it to myself to step back. It is his choice to hold onto his anger, and it’s my choice to value myself above trying to appease him. I guess we’ll see where our relationship ends up. It’s really up to him.


I felt good afterwards. Solid. Like I had figured out an important aspect of myself. Abuse is abuse. Intentionally harming someone, emotionally, physically, spiritually… it doesn’t matter. It’s wrong no matter what type of abuse it is. And it’s wrong no matter who is doing it. A stranger, friend, or family. It doesn’t matter. No one ever has the right to cause intentional harm to another living  creature.


I spent time with friends playing Pokemon go in downtown Orlando that evening. It was fun and a nice end to the day.


Friday was my exam. I got an 89 on it. I missed eight questions. I’m still not really sure how I feel about it. Four of the questions we were told wouldn’t be on the test. Like… when we were going over the study guide we were specifically told those answers didn’t matter because they would be on a later test, not this one, so don’t worry about it. Well… when I got them on the test I didn’t know the answer and I guessed wrong apparently. Two of the other questions were silly mistakes due to negligence on my part. The other two I answered “right” but there was a “more right” answer so they were still technically wrong.


I guess overall I’m alright with the grade. It’s not the 100 I would have preferred, but not bad. It’s not my certification exam either, so there’s time to improve.


I had lunch with Em that day.


Saturday I woke up early and went to a boxing class. That was an intense workout that I needed. Good burn and it started my day off right. I took care of laundry and saw Zane. He had mail for me, and there’s a bit more that goes into the encounter, but basically the phone bill is $400 because he’s behind a payment and didn’t tell me. Thanks… that’s only my credit and phone service… Long story short, I had the option to get signed off the lease and I opted not to until the phone issue is taken care of. That should be in two weeks. His next pay check. We’ll see what happens. If it all goes according to plan then I should be off the lease within the month. Fingers crossed.


Lio, my sister in law,  is taking care of the carpets for the apartment in Vegas. That will be Tuesday, so until then there’s not much I can do. Even after that it’s really up to the owner to agree to trying to lease the apartment again.  I hope it works out and Jodi can persuade him.


Anyway, after finishing up laundry and getting lunch I spent 3 hours with friends downtown again during which time I may or may not have been playing Pokemon Go…


I left that adventure early to join another group of friends for sushi, after which we went to a different location where I again… may or may not have played PoGo… Seriously though… I walked 7 miles on Saturday on top of doing boxing in the morning. I was totally beat by the time I got home.


I also connected with a bunch of friends through the FitBit app on Saturday and started a Weekend Warrior challenge. That was fun to figure out. At the end of Saturday I was in second place… not cool, bro.


Today has been a good day. I cleaned up the room I’m staying in. I had lunch, did grocery shopping, put the clothes away and did more Pokemon. Ok… I know it sounds like I play the game a lot, and maybe I do, but it’s only after everything else has been taken care of and really it’s no different than saying I played Witcher III for a few hours, except with PoGo I’m outside getting my steps in while leveling shit for world domination. Which, by the way, I’m pretty sure I won the challenge for the weekend. By something like 400 steps, but hey, a win is a win right? /flex


I’ve had a few  moments where I’ve been  sad, thinking about mom, but overall I think  I’ve  been doing good. I’m proud of the way I handled the situation with my brother and Zane, who proceeded to send me text messages about how I was trying to cast myself as the victim.


No… I’m not. I’m trying not to get screwed over for another $700 because money is still owed on your phone along with the $400 in bill payment when you still owe me $2000 for all of the expenses I covered while you were unemployed…


So yeah, I think those are the main events of the past few days. Not a lot, yet at the same time, it’s a lot. Emotionally it felt heavy.


I passed my first exam. I wish mom where here for it. I know she’s proud. It’s still hard though. I think the next few weeks are going to be sort of hard because we’re learning the procedures I helped the RNs and CNAs perform while I stayed at the hospital with her. It’s going to be sort of flash backy for me. Just reading about how to change an occupied bed was hard for me because I remember all the times I helped do it.


I guess this is where we’ll see if I’m actually cut out for this stuff. I think it will be hard. But I think it will be healing, and I think it will be worth it. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow. And with that I’m off to sleep. Only 30 minutes later… go me. : D

Daily Post 125: Sibling Rivalry​


I think my aversion to writing stems from the fact that I process when I write, and at the moment I really don’t feel like dealing with anything.


Yesterday started off well enough, until I started messaging my younger brother. He said he was going to send me an email and that he was sorry if it made me cry, that wasn’t his intention, but he wanted to get some stuff off his chest so we could move forward with our relationship.


Great. So this is going to be an email where he bashes me…


And that’s exactly what it was.


He said I lied to mom.


In not so many words he said he thought I was a failure. He said he wants to go to Full Sail to prove that he’s better than me and that he didn’t agree with the choices I’ve made since I’ve graduated.


He said he’s mad that my loans are being forgiven. He thinks I should keep my debt because I deserve it, as  a form of punishment.


He said he’s still angry that mom helped me with school and not him and that he either can’t or doesn’t want to let go of that anger. I can’t remember what it was and I don’t want to re-read the email again because reading it once sucked enough to last me a while.


He said he wants to blame me for his depression and isolation in Germany because the only reason he joined the military was to get the GI bill for school which he only needed because mom wouldn’t help him with school.


He said the past four years any time we’ve hung out he’s had a mask on, covering up his anger and that he could only handle me in smaller and smaller doses.


Pretty much any fear I had he poked at or confirmed. I spent a solid hour feeling like an actual failure. And what sucked more was even though the only thing I wanted was for the pain in my chest to stop I knew I couldn’t kill myself because if I did he would twist it into something about how I was selfish and only thought of myself. My death wouldn’t have made him sad or feel guilty. It would just be another reason to be mad at me.


I didn’t want mom to die so my loans could be forgiven. In fact, I wasn’t even the one who looked into it. It never entered my mind to see if they could be forgiven. And I spent two weeks being furious with the Universe all over again because I didn’t want this “amazing” thing to happen to me. I  wanted mom back. I would gladly double, triple, quadruple my debt if it meant mom could come back.


And here my brother is, being upset at me because my loan forgiveness was something I had control over…


It got really dark inside of my head and I’m grateful that I was able to talk to Warren #1 shortly after getting Jon’s message. I don’t know what I would have done without his support. Nothing good I’m sure. While I was talking to him I remembered something that mom had said to me while she was in the hospital.


She told me herself she was proud of me.


She was proud. Even with all of the “mistakes” I’ve made she was proud.


My brother can go fuck himself.


Even he admitted that his therapist advised him to let go of the animosity over mom helping me with school, and he would rather hold onto that anger. Until he’s done casting himself in a victim role and labeling me as his persecutor I’m done. I’m done with being the target for him. This isn’t the first time he’s lashed out at me. I’m sure it won’t be the last, but I don’t have to keep putting myself in his line of sight.


Until he’s done being a douche to me I’m not going to interact with him. A fire can’t burn if there isn’t fuel, so I’m removing myself from the equation. Maybe one day he’ll grow up and realize that all of this pettiness that I legitimately had nothing to do with is just anger he’s allowing to fester inside of himself. I have / had no control over mom’s actions and choices.


I’m tired of reaching out and doing things for him and getting slapped in the face. Like how this past weekend I flew out to Vegas on Friday, after spending all morning in my CNA class. How I packed all of his stuff up in  mom’s apartment and  got it loaded into U-Boxes to be shipped to Orlando for him since he couldn’t fly out to do it himself, and how I flew back Sunday where my flight was delayed by three hours so I barely got any sleep before going back to my class on Monday. He’s not grateful for the fact that I answer all of the questions he asks me about Maya and how to do CG related tasks, or that I’ve hooked him up with several of my friends and former students already so he has help when I’m not available or can’t answer his questions. Or the fact that I’m trying to get him applied for a scholarship from the school since I’m an alumnus.


None of that matters to him.  Fine.  Then I’m done and he can figure it out on his own since he would rather be an angry, bitter child.


I’m  not a punching bag. I don’t have to put up with any of the stuff he said in his email, because there’s more that I haven’t written about. He’s not entitled to treat me like crap just because he’s family. In fact, I would think that being family obligates him to NOT treat me like that because we’re supposed to stick together. And I would expect after mom’s death that we would be closer, but instead he would rather let his anger ruin our relationship. I don’t even know if I want to try to salvage anything.


I had thought on the 28th I would finally have someone to spend an “important day” with. It wouldn’t be like the one month mark, or Mother’s Day where I had to spend all of these significant dates alone. I thought he and I would have been able to grieve together on mom’s birthday. But I’m not going to be able to spend any time with him, I’m not going to be able to even  see him, without thinking about how he thinks I’m a failure.


I don’t need negativity in my life. And if that means not being around Jon then I guess that’s how it has to be. I’ve done a lot to remove toxic people from my life, and if he’s so set on being a toxic person then he can enjoy his exile. I deserve to be treated better and I’m not going to take responsibility for his own actions. His emotions are his choice as well. He’s choosing to be angry over something that is four years old. That’s a really long time to hold on to anger.


At the moment I don’t care. At the moment I’m  thinking about how he blamed me on his only being able to see mom twice before she was hospitalized because he  was  in Germany, a place he chose to go to.


Pretty much the only thing he didn’t blame me for was mom’s actual death.


We’re all hurting. We all feel wronged by her death, and we all want someone to blame. Be angry at the Universe like I am. Stop making me your fucking target so you can keep being the “baby”. Grow up. You’re 25. You’re not a child, but people, all people, are going to keep treating you like one because that’s how you act. Like a jealous, ungrateful, spoiled, self-centered, thoughtless child.


I’m not mom. I’m not going to handhold you through life. If you are vicious to me then I’m going to remove you because I deserve to be treated better than that.


Tonight is another night where I have a drink in front of me that I’m going to finish in hopes that I sleep the whole night instead of staying up, struggling, fighting with the evil voice inside my head when it starts wondering if Jon is right and maybe I am a failure.


I’m not a failure!


I’m not! I’m going to do amazing on my test on Friday. And I’ll continue to do well in my classes, and I’ll find a job that I like and I’ll become a PTA and I’ll eventually find some form of emotional stability with mom’s death and I’ll keep living life and helping people and one day that purpose and drive will come back to me and it won’t feel so forced or fake or empty. My smiles won’t hurt as much. I won’t look to things like Pokemon Go as a distraction to keep me out of my room so I’m not reminded that I feel alone.


I will win the game of life by being happy and as long as I’m happy I’m not a failure because that’s the only thing mom wanted. Was for me to be happy. And she was proud of me. So yeah. Like I said, he can go fuck himself with his burning passion to prove that he’s better than me.


It’s not about being better. There is no “better”. There’s different. Maybe one day he’ll understand that. Or maybe once his name is in movie credits and he feels accomplished, and successful, and vindicated maybe he’ll be able to have some form of peace because he “proved” something. I don’t know. I wish him peace because anger takes a lot of energy and I can’t image what it’s been like holding on to all of that for four years.


A large part of me feels like he’s going to hold onto this until his dying breath and that he’ll pass away cursing me, blaming me, resenting me just for breathing. I have done nothing but make his life hell and insufferable apparently. Fine. I’ll hopefully make it marginally better by removing myself from it.

Daily Post 124: So… I’m Alive


I’ve been avoiding this. I’ve actively thought about writing for weeks. Almost every day.  And somehow I always manage to crawl into bed or go through my haphazard mornings without writing. I’ve started scrolling through Facebook again.


I give myself points for waking up. And really, I give myself a lot of points every day because for the past week I’ve being going to classes.


Yep. That’s right. I’m back in school. Oh… and I’m staying in Orlando…




If I wrote everyday it wouldn’t seem like such an overwhelming task to recount all the crap that’s happened to me for the past… three week? Almost a month?


Let’s see… I’m still on the lease with Zane. I’m pretty sure I wrote about that fight.


*Looks at past posts…*


Oh cool… I wrote about resigning. So that happened. I spent a week not really doing much, and it sucked as much as I thought it would. I’m not cut out for “doing nothing”. I got closure with a lot of people and aspects of my life. I woke up on Friday at the end of the first week feeling pretty energized. I mean… I had a week of sleeping and resting, and felt ready to tackle the task of figuring out my life. I was going to save it until I got to Vegas. Save all of the heavy lifting until after the move essentially, but I didn’t have anything else going on, so why not start now, right?


That began a tumble down a rabbit hole…


I started researching becoming a physical therapist. Without going into 10 pages worth of  back and forth-ness on “should I stay or should I go” the story boils down to this…  I was talking to Mother Earth on the phone and she inquired about the types of student loans I had. All of the choices I was making at the time revolved around them. I told her parent plus loans. She went online and on the official .gov website it said that if the borrower (mom) or the person being borrowed for (me) dies then the loans are forgiven.


I was silent for a while. When I could think enough to talk I said that I understood what she had read to me, but that I couldn’t process it. I couldn’t accept any of that information. I went to the computer myself, since I had been curled up in bed having a minor freak out over not knowing if I should still move or not, and brought the page up myself.


I read the same paragraph and still couldn’t accept the information. I told Mother Earth that I needed to go for now. And when I got off the phone I cried.


I was so angry at the time. I knew, knew, if I told anyone this information, that my loans were theoretically forgiven, since at the time I didn’t have official confirmation, that the first thing they would say is how lucky I was. Congratulate me maybe. How I was fortunate. And the only thing my brain wanted to scream was no.






No! This is not ok. This sucks.


My brain would hear, “Congratulations for your mom dying,” because that’s the only reason this would be happening to me. Mom died so I don’t have loans. You know… I would totally be ok with being in debt for the rest of my life if it meant I could have mom back. Just like the inheritance check and how I wanted to give it back. Return it because if I returned it I could have mom, right? That’s how returns work. Keep your fucking money and give me my mom back.


I wanted to scream in hurt all over again because it was another stick poking at the hole in my chest, reminding me, “Hey, no really, your mom is dead.”


Fuck you, Universe. I know she’s dead. I don’t need your constant reminders about it, ok?


I spent a lot of time that week being angry. I had to wait almost a week to hear from the loan providers because I emailed them on Saturday at 2am. Since it was the weekend I wouldn’t hear back from them.  Monday was the 4th of July, so I wouldn’t get anything that day… the earliest I could hope for was Wednesday. The Wednesday before I was supposed to leave… less than a week to officially figure out what I wanted to do with my life…


And just like I knew it would play out, any time I had to mention the loans during that time period I was congratulated. And it took every fiber of my being not to flip shit on those people. I know they meant well. I explained why it hurt and made me angry, and I know they felt bad about it afterwards. It didn’t mess up any of my friendships but it sucked knowing that I would never have a person react with, “Wow, that really sucks.”


It felt like I would never have that level of understanding because I know people who would nearly kill to get rid of their student debt and here I am crying over not having it. In the scheme of things I know, logically, this is probably the best thing that could happen to me in this situation. I couldn’t be happy about it though.  I’m still not happy about it, but I accept it and understand it. In the beginning though, instead of being grateful I was angry and bitter and back to not knowing how to not hate things, life, for magically working out only after mom died. Why couldn’t I have figured my shit out while she was here? Why couldn’t I have been a better adult and handled all of this beforehand where she could have been proud of me? Why did she have to die for me to be “ok”?


That’s what kept going through my head while I waited for the confirmation about the loans, and on Wednesday morning while I was having breakfast, I got the confirmation. They will be forgiven. That was another week of anger and hurt and emotional turmoil. I’m still sort of angry about it, but there’s a lot more acceptance now. Not having my previous student debt means that I’m able to pursue the physical therapist assistant avenue I want to explore.


My anger doesn’t change the fact that mom died. My anger doesn’t change the fact that the loans are forgiven. I can choose to be angry or I can choose to let it go and accept both of these facts in my life. I’m tired of being angry. I have little left to give to the anger. The less anger I have, the more acceptance there is. Maybe that’s my cycle.


I know distracting myself from things doesn’t work. I’ve tried it. I guess I’m one of those people who needs to feel it, experience it, all of it, until there’s nothing left, and then I can move on.


Last week, Monday, the 11th of July, 2015, the day I was supposed to start my move out west I instead began a six-week course to become a certified nursing assistant (CNA). Once the program is done I’ll be able to apply for jobs with the VA or, hopefully, a rehab clinic, or even hospitals. In the fall of next year I will begin classes to become a PTA, which is a 20-month program for an associate’s degree.


The CNA position is a stepping stone. Something to do for the year before my classes start.  It will keep me busy, expose me to the field I want to go into, and help bring in income which would be nice.


My first week of classes has been amazing. I’ve learned how to take vital signs. I’ve learned clinical skills, and I’ve surprised myself with how naturally I seem to take to it and how much I already know from my time in the hospital  with mom, but also from both mom and Jon being in the medical field already. There are a lot of numbers to remember, but I think I’m doing alright. I have my first exam this Friday so I suppose we’ll see if I’m doing as well as I think I am.


It feels good. It feels like mom is proud of me because I still choose to believe she is looking out for me and is with me. I feel like there was a reason I started looking into things when I did. My staying in Orlando means I get in-state tuition for school. If I get in with a hospital there’s a chance they will help me with tuition as one of the benefits for working with them. There are a lot of ifs and maybes, but there’s the added bonus that Mother Earth and Josh are moving back to Orlando and I’ll have my pseudo family around me again. My younger brother is going to school in Orlando, so we’ll be able to hang out.


I’m worried that I chickened out and that fear is the reason I stayed, but there are a lot of pros to staying here, and I like to think that I am able to adapt as new information presents itself. This was some pretty heavy new information and for a solid week I struggled with trying to figure out what was best for me and what I truly wanted.


I think this is the right path, at least for right now. Maybe I’ll still move. Who knows? For the next 5 weeks though I have these classes to keep my occupied.


I feel written out. There’s so much more to type and I know I really ought to process through more of it, and maybe I will as the days progress. I don’t have a routine for the evening anymore, and I am barely clinging to the one I have for the mornings. I’m trying to change that. I’m trying to get back into my writing because I know it helps me. I know there are times I should have written that I didn’t. Just like I should have drank more water and instead I suffered through the migraine that followed from skipping out on it.


I’m tired of making myself suffer through the sadness and pain and emotional confusion. I know I need to write, so I am. I have a few things I’m going to try to do each evening. Shower, brush teeth, write, drink water, study. Maybe not in that order, but those things in some form.  I think if I can do at least those five things before trying to sleep that I can condition myself to wind down better and sleep sounder than what I have been for the past 3 and a half months.


It’s still hard sometimes. I still struggle with the question of why? Why do all of this when mom isn’t here. What’s the point? I don’t want to die. I’m not suicidal, but it feels so pointless sometimes. All I want is for her to answer the phone. I want her to be there after I take my certification test. I wanted to call her so badly after I signed up for my courses because I know she would have been excited for me. Just as excited as I was if not more so.


But she can’t answer the phone. And so I struggle with why. Why do any of it when I can’t share it with her? Nights like tonight are like that. And there’s a part of my brain that tells me she’s still here and that’s why I do it. Because I know she’s still proud of me. There’s a measure of comfort from that and I guess that’s really all I’ll ever be able to get. I’m still transitioning. I most likely will for the rest of my life. I’ll struggle with wanting her to still physically be here.


Her birthday is coming up. July 28th.


I don’t know what else to say. I didn’t mean for this to get so depressing. I’m not going to be sorry for writing though. I’m not going to be sorry for feeling sad or for not knowing what to do for her birthday. I’m not going to be sorry that it’s most likely going to be harder than mother’s day.


I guess really I could just say, “I’m not going to be sorry,” and be done with it. It still sucks sometimes, and right now is one of those times. I feel closer to her for having written though. I’m going to go cherish that closeness.