Destroyed and Rebuilt...

In the past when I wrote about my mother, it touched on some of the pain I felt. Never got too deep. Lately I've been thinking a lot of about her. It's been 10 years since I lost her. I think these last few months I've thought about her constantly. With Mother's Day right around the corner, just wanted to let some thoughts out. This isn't a pretty piece, but here goes.

I remember losing my mother like it was yesterday. I remember the exact time she took her last breath. I remember that whole weekend I spent laying in bed with her. I remember wanting to believe that she would pull through. Now that I look back, I knew she wouldn't. Not that I didn't have faith, I just felt that miracle wasn't going to happen.

Her funeral is still a blur to me. I do remember walking up to the casket and wanting to jump in. I didn't want to let her go. I felt like I had died too so may as well make it a double. I spent the next few months pretending I was okay. I took a new job to distract myself. Only to end up crying in the bathroom during my lunch breaks. This most painful thing I had do was cancel her phone line. I bursted into tears when the customer service asked was there any reason why I was canceling the line. Felt like I was giving her up all over again.

Next the anger set in and took a tight grip on me. "Why didn't you fight harder?!" "Why did you listen to those idiots at the church"" I was angry at my dead mother. How could she be so cruel to leave me, to leave us? I was mad at every doctor, nurse, assistant, valet worker, custodian, anyone who worked at that hospital I loathed. Why didn't ya'll try harder? Did you give her every treatment you could? You call yourself a doctor and couldn't save MY mother?! You worthless pieces of shit! Lastly, I was mad at God. With all the drinking, smoking, general hell raising people on this earth, you chose to take my loving, beautiful mother? You serious right now?

Once the anger subsided, the depression blew into my life. I got depressed when I finally realized "damn, she's gone and not coming back". I never wanted to kill myself. However, there were days that I was like if I don't wake up, that's cool. I engaged in some hella self destructive behavior. I drank more than I did in college. I smoked like a chimney. Anything to dull my senses. Anything to not deal with the emptiness I felt inside. I withdrew from the world. I left the the distraction job. I sat in my apartment and didn't leave. I didn't sleep. I didn't do anything.

On one of the rare nights I actually slept, I had a dream. The most vivid dream I've ever had. I saw my mother so clearly, almost to the point I felt like I could touch her. When I woke up, I was in tears. I reckon it was for two reasons: 1. I didn't want the dream to end and 2. I felt like it was her way of telling me how I was living wasn't cool.

That night was a turning point for me. First thing I did was found a therapist. Not the one at the bottom of a bottle, but the one with the letters behind her name. Life without my mother has been tough. However, I have been able to cope and deal with life. It's obvious at times that my mom was the glue of our family. My pops has really stepped his game up though. I'm amazed by his strength. I can only imagine losing someone you were with for over 3 decades. He held it together for us and I appreciate that.

While I would had rather not lost my mom, losing her has given me a new purpose in life. I have been able to comfort so many people who lost their mothers. To be able to look into crying eyes and say "I've been there. It won't be easy but you're going to be okay". Helping people during tough times was her gig, now it's mine.

When You Love Someone, You Just Don't Treat Them Bad....

I know at first glance at the title, you may think it's the line from Donell Jones' classic "Where I Want to Be". You may also think that this blog is going to be about me trying to hook up with someone else. As salacious and scandalous as this may sound, this blog ain't that.

My journey as a black lesbian has not always been an easy one. Even though I am more masculine presenting, coming out to family and the aftermath has been tedious still. The biggest offender has been my eldest sister. Incidentally, she is the sibling that I am closest to. After our mother died, she has really stepped in and filled some of the void I felt.

Background on my sister: she is 8 years older than me (early 40s), married, has a kid, uber religious, and quite conservative. My sister has been an adult since we were kids. I don't ever recall her letting her hair down and having a good time. She's always been super serious. My parents would leave her in charge and she'd actually tell them if we acted up. Like bruh...this supposed to be fun time. Anywho, she is a true and through holy roller. Always has been.

When I came out to my other siblings, it was like "meh, okay". I've had some missteps with my other sister, but that's more of her being an ass than anything else. She's the type to try to hurt you with words because she can't win an argument. My bro is indifferent about life in general really has nothing to say one way or the other. He told me to be happy and that was that.

Let's get to the get down with this blog. My oldest sis recently had a birthday. Her husband texted me an invite to come to their house for birthday cake. Apparently they didn't coordinate the invite, so my sis called with a similar invite. I tell my sis that sure, the girlfriend and I will come thru. because we may go bowling or something beforehand Radio silence. "Umm umm if yall were gonna go on a date, don't worry about. His (my bro-in-law's) parents will be there. You know how they are. I don't want them to say anything offensive to yall. Plus the kids....*voice trails off*. Just don't worry. Come over another time"

I am on the other end completely flabbergasted. I know she is still trying but I felt like we had made some progress. "Okay, if that's what you want. I'll chill" is all I can stammer fighting tears. I'll never give anyone the satisfaction of knowing they made me cry. After I hung up the phone, I just let loose. Anyone who knows me knows that it takes a lot to make my cry. If I cry, I'm for real hurt. I couldn't believe my sister didn't stand up for me. I was hurt that a person I care about just threw me under a whole bus.

How can you say you love someone but don't love everything about them? If your love for me is dependent upon me hiding or denying myself. You can keep your love if your love is not extended to someone I am in a relationship with. You don't love me, it just sounds good to say. It baffles me so much that people allow ignorance, bias, a book, whatever treat a loved whole so badly. Why would  you try to connect a perversion such as pedophilia to two adult women in a loving relationship? How do you fix that same mouth to say you love 100%? So if that's your idea of love...don't love me. Keep it,