My mom has been dead for 9 years. This time of year is always devastatingly hard for me. As early as the beginning of September, when my mom was admitted to the hospital for the last time, until mid-October when she passed away, it is hard to keep my chin up, one could say.
The Summer after I graduated from college, I began working with a woman who had lost her husband to cancer a few years earlier. She mentioned that the month around his death was extremely difficult for her and her daughters so they planned as many nurturing activities together as possible.
The first few years after my mom died, I was depressed all the time, so it was hard to notice the change. Plus I assumed that it had something to do with how hard it was for me to go back to college every September. But when I met this woman, I was out of school and still Fall came around and I fell apart.
It usually starts without me noticing whats going on. Other people illustrate depression better than I can so I'll keep my explanation brief:
Like many people at the onset of Fall, my body begins to crave introspection. I get tired, hunker down more often, break out my supply of comfy sweaters. Unlike many people at the onset of Fall, I tend to cry without warning and struggle to leave the apartment. This year, relatedly, I found that my self-preservation instinct was not strong enough for me to feel safe enough to ride my bike.
It used to be much worse than it is now. It helps that I have a growing support community and my partner understands that, for about a month and a half, I'm much more fragile than usual.
It also helps that I'm used to it now. As soon as I catch myself starting to slow down, I think, "I know what this is. I've lived through it before, I can do it again." And I know what to do. I know I need to take extra time for myself to feel sad. I know I need to balance reaching out to others, doing normal things, and spending time on myself.
I'm bringing it up now because, over the next year, I'm going to put out a short zine-ish thing about grief and my experience of losing my mom both before and after her death. My intentions in doing so are my own processing and to share my experience with others in case its helpful, as I've found learning about the experiences of others to be helpful. Maybe other people will want to create their own version, either for their own consumption or to put out if it is helpful. If that's true maybe it will be a small series. But I wouldn't be surprised to learn that not many people are interested in casually throwing their most vulnerable self into the arms of Unknowns.
Two years ago, I let myself really feel grief for the first time on what would have been my mom's 56th birthday and despite every cell in my body warning me that I would explode, I didn't. Instead, I cried a bunch and then I wrote a song. The world kept turning.
It is on the world turning that I'm focusing in the creation of this next project.
The Summer after I graduated from college, I began working with a woman who had lost her husband to cancer a few years earlier. She mentioned that the month around his death was extremely difficult for her and her daughters so they planned as many nurturing activities together as possible.
The first few years after my mom died, I was depressed all the time, so it was hard to notice the change. Plus I assumed that it had something to do with how hard it was for me to go back to college every September. But when I met this woman, I was out of school and still Fall came around and I fell apart.
It usually starts without me noticing whats going on. Other people illustrate depression better than I can so I'll keep my explanation brief:
Like many people at the onset of Fall, my body begins to crave introspection. I get tired, hunker down more often, break out my supply of comfy sweaters. Unlike many people at the onset of Fall, I tend to cry without warning and struggle to leave the apartment. This year, relatedly, I found that my self-preservation instinct was not strong enough for me to feel safe enough to ride my bike.
It used to be much worse than it is now. It helps that I have a growing support community and my partner understands that, for about a month and a half, I'm much more fragile than usual.
It also helps that I'm used to it now. As soon as I catch myself starting to slow down, I think, "I know what this is. I've lived through it before, I can do it again." And I know what to do. I know I need to take extra time for myself to feel sad. I know I need to balance reaching out to others, doing normal things, and spending time on myself.
I'm bringing it up now because, over the next year, I'm going to put out a short zine-ish thing about grief and my experience of losing my mom both before and after her death. My intentions in doing so are my own processing and to share my experience with others in case its helpful, as I've found learning about the experiences of others to be helpful. Maybe other people will want to create their own version, either for their own consumption or to put out if it is helpful. If that's true maybe it will be a small series. But I wouldn't be surprised to learn that not many people are interested in casually throwing their most vulnerable self into the arms of Unknowns.
Two years ago, I let myself really feel grief for the first time on what would have been my mom's 56th birthday and despite every cell in my body warning me that I would explode, I didn't. Instead, I cried a bunch and then I wrote a song. The world kept turning.
It is on the world turning that I'm focusing in the creation of this next project.
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