This has been a difficult year. So difficult that I did not realise how badly I was handleing it. thought I was coping but then I realised that I was just floating... I have been trying to write this journal for awhile now. I am always seeing people post the most intimate things on here and the responses are usually so supportative that I wanted to write my story and get that level of support. But actually putting my chaotic thoughts on paper (virtually anyway!) proved to be alot harder than I thought.
My mother passed away. I know its true... I was there, and yet somehow I can't accept it. I don't know why it is so hard for me to say it or think it or even write it. She was the type of woman you think will be around forever and I feel so betrayed and bitter that she was taken at such a young age. She was 59. She passed on August 19th, two weeks before her 60th birthday.
My mother had diabetes and on the Thursday before she died, she was told that she would probably begin dialysis in a few months. They were also concerned about her blood pressure and decided to up her medications. By the time her medicine arrived in the mail she was dead. Saturday my mom went shopping to get a gift for my cousin's birthday. She called me to see if I wanted to go to the party. I had just gotten off work and just wanted to crash. I told her I would see her tomorrow. Sunday morning my brother in law called me around 7 am to say come quick your mom is not breathing. My mother lived with my sister and her husband and my family and I only live two streets over so it literally took 5 mins to get to her house. The ambulance was already there and working on my mother...
My sister said my mom had woken them saying it was hard to breathe... then passed out. My sister started cpr and my brother in law called 911 and then me.
This is was supposed to be cathartic, but this is all I can write at this point.
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