This week I was struck by a revelation.
My mom died. My mom is dead.
It's really weird to say that and it find it to be a revelation. I mean, it's not like I didn't know it. I've known it for more than a month now. I've hardly talked about anything else on here. Yet somehow, I finally really felt it. It's as if someone else has been thinking and feeling these things for the past month. Now, suddenly, it's me. I knew it. I felt it. I said it.
At the same time my subconscious, always subtle as a brick, continues to rail against the idea. I had a dream earlier this week of my mom, very annoyed, insisting that I call her right away. I had another about her having a lifesaving medical procedure.
So, on the one hand, I'm finally touching this new reality. On the other, some part of me still refuses to accept it.
Obviously, I've still got some work to do.
You know what this reminds me of... those weeks and months early in my illness where I kept saying - "yeah, I know I'm sick but I'm really feeling better today and I'll be OK soon." Well, I'm not OK. With my illness, I've adjusted to a new reality, a new way of living. I guess I need to do the same thing here... and the first step is really, truly, accepting that I'm not OK... but I'll adjust.
Onward
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