Lonely

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day again. The third one without my mother here with me. It still stings when I listen to advertisements reminding me of Mother’s Day and it’s tough to be around friends and family talking about what they're doing for or with their mom on Mother’s Day.

I’m not a mom yet, so it’s a very bizarre, in-between type of day. I know lots of moms and honor their motherhood - so, yes, there’s meaning in that. It’s not as though I’m totally exempt from the holiday just because my mom isn't alive.

A few days ago I met a new colleague while at a work conference. The air around this woman was not jovial in the least - she seemed sad and reserved. She didn’t smile. I didn’t know if it was her personality or if she just didn't like me, but I noticed it immediately. There was something categorically sad about her.

One morning I made an off-hand comment about my stomach feeling bad or feeling slightly out of it due to the absurdly high pollen count that day. (If you know me, my favorite thing is to complain about "not feeling well." I'm usually tired, allergy-laden, or something else. This is something I get from my mother. I am completely self-aware.)

Later that day, I ran into my sad colleague again and she offered me some of her ginger ale. I thanked her and told her that I was okay. She asked how I was feeling. I told her I was feeling so-so. Maybe the ice around her was melting a little bit towards me.

After that last conference program, I ran into my sad colleague as walked to our cars in the parking lot. She asked how long I'd been working with the library system and we talked about the future of librarianship. She told me about her experiences in libraries (she’d started working in public libraries in 1999). She told me that as public librarians, we are very much like therapists. I agreed with her. She told me that her therapist told her that during a session and I was shocked at her openness. Therapy, unfortunately, isn’t something people are completely open about, especially in the black community that we share. 

“I see a therapist because I lost my daughter last year,” she adds.

And I stop. I mumble my condolences and suddenly see her in a different light. I feel her pain. I see her pain. I think about how hard it must be for her. My heart breaks because I know her pain - albeit I have no idea how it feels to lose a child, but I do understand gut-wrenching lost. I know how it feels after one minute, one year, two years and soon I'll know how it feels after three years before many, many more years - many more milestones, many more Mother's Days, birthdays, Christmases, etc. 

I think of my grandmother. I think of my mother. I think of the daughter that I don’t have yet. I think of this woman with the seemingly inexplicable sadness all around her that can be explained very simply: she was grieving and she missed her daughter.

We talk some more after this revelation and then go grocery shopping together. We don’t feel like going to dinner with our other colleagues. We decide to use our per diems to buy food and eat it alone in our hotel rooms, respectively. 

Mother’s Day must be so hard for her, too. 

2 years later . . .

From Facebook:

Two years ago today, my mother passed away. With every life change comes the constant reminder that she is not here. I am so lucky to have been raised by such a beautiful soul for the first 27 years of my life. When she was sick and nearing the end, one of the thoughts that kept passing through my mind was: "No, not yet, Mom. I'm just starting to really become a 'real' woman. I'm just starting to really grow up. I want you to be here for everything." Mothers can see things that you cannot see. I could not always see all that life had in store for me such as getting married, having kids, etc. From childhood to adulthood, she would remind me of all the great things ahead for me in life - long before I had any clue. When she was fighting cancer, and in a certain drug daze, she said, "I can't wait to babysit your children." And I felt ashamed because I knew she probably wouldn't be around to do that. Yesterday, one of my best friends had a baby and this weekend I’m throwing a bridal shower for another best friend. I’m overjoyed for both and excited that I get to experience this happiness with them. Life always goes on and these happy experiences are what it is all about. Life is beautiful, crazy, painful, blissful and magnificent. What I mean to say is, I am not alone and although a big piece of my heart will always be broken, my heart is still very full. Celebrate life today and always. 

Getting this out made me feel so much better. Namaste.

Forgiving myself.

Sometimes I think I'm a bitch. I am not my best friend. I condemn myself. I wonder why I'm so difficult. I wonder how I can forgive others for their shortcomings and then be so upset with myself. It seems unfair.

I think about Old Me. The Me from years ago. The wide-eyed Me. The hopeful Me. The Me who thought everything was in my control. The Me who thought love conquered all. The Me who always thought things would work out in the end.  The naive Me.

Well, it's not the end, right? I'm about to get deep here, but is it ever the end? Is there ever really a finite end to things? There's always something from something else. No thing just comes out of thin air and no thing just disappears into nothing.

So maybe things (life) will work out eventually. Maybe the Old Me wasn't so wrong. Or maybe it just doesn't matter.

My heart really aches these days. I'm a fighter and I'm strong, but sometimes being strong is hard. Ending a relationship with someone you love is hard. Losing a parent is hard. Losing a gland in your body due to a cancer scare is hard, too. (I've been having weird thyroidectomy remorse. It's really bizarre.)

When I feel uncomfortable emotions (such as jealousy, anxiety, anger, annoyance. . .) and then feel guilty about feeling those already uncomfortable emotions, I have to remind myself to take a step back. Instead of thinking about what others may say or think about my decisions, I focus on the truth:

I'm really doing the best I can and I'm only human.

In order for us to truly practice kindness and gentleness with others, we must practice those traits with ourselves. We must forgive ourselves. We must be our own best friends.

"Experience: the most brutal of teachers. But you learn, my God, do you learn." - C.S. Lewis

Busy is good, but my thyroid isn't.

Haven't written in a while.

Life has been busy and I suppose that busy is good.

I have a job that I enjoy, I'm a homeowner and things have changed drastically, in mostly good ways, since last year. This is all positive and for that I am thankful. (Oh yeah, and my braces are off! Whoo hoo!)

How can I explain that I'm also sad in some ways? The most obvious reason being that I don't have my mother here to celebrate these life changes and accomplishments. I know that there are some mothers who aren't there for their children, but my mom always was and I have had to adjust to a new reality for the past year and a half.

(Side note: The thing about humans is that we're many different things to so many different people.  Everyone who was close to my mom has had to adjust to this new reality. It's tough for us all. We're all still grieving.)

I've recently found out that I have to have my thyroid removed due to some suspicious cell activity. I have a 40% chance of getting cancer in my right thyroid gland. God, I hate cancer.

This surgery isn't uncommon and many other people have had it. I will not know if the cells are cancerous until my thyroid is removed and further testing is conducted. I know I will be fine and I'm strong and all that stuff, but I'm also feeling a bit despondent.

I have flashbacks to my mother's illness. Her experiences with tests, doctors and hospitals. Her feeling alone as she went to those early doctor appointments. Her dependence on her parents to take care of her spiritually, emotionally and physically during her illness. Her trying to protect her children from the pain, which kind of made me feel isolated and helpless.

I have a vivid memory of watching my mother call for her mom from her bedroom one day. I remember feeling left out and unneeded, wanting her to be stronger and knowing that I probably wouldn't have the same support when I am her age. Knowing that I probably wouldn't have a/my mother to take care of me or my children if I had to face a serious illness one day.  I remember accepting this and knowing life would be different for me. I realized that I'd have to construct a different kind of support system for myself. And that had to be okay because I had no other choice.

Now, over a year later, I do have a wonderful support system that consists of beautiful and loving family, friends and even coworkers. I know I will be fine and for that, I am thankful.

While I do carry some sadness around, there's also a lot to be happy about. There's a lot to look forward to.

Now that I'm finding my groove at work and settling into my new home, I hope to write more. I also want to take singing lessons again. There's so much I want to do. Busy is good.

Namaste.

* * *

A word on adriennechristina.com: Back in October/November, I accidentally let my domain name expire. Crap. Now, it's proving very difficult  (and far too expensive) to re-register my domain. For the time being, I'm doing without. Hopefully it's still just as easy to find me. Thanks for still checking out what I've got to say. Until next time . . .

Coping Mechanisms

It all sneaks up on me sometimes . . .

I am finally finishing up Steve Job’s biography (fascinating read, by the way) and am now reading about his last months. Coincidently, he shared some of the same last months as my mother. 

It's been a (very) little over a year since my mother passed away.

I’ve been thinking about what my mom had to go through towards the end of her life. I imagine what she must have been thinking about as she looked back on her time on Earth and the decisions that she made. I remember her making comments about her past. I remember her just staring at us all. I wonder what she must have thought about while she watched her loved ones. I can't imagine how hard it must have been for her to say goodbye to us all - especially her children, her mother and her father. I am amazed at her bravery and I am in awe of her strength. 

Of all the ways to go, a terminal illness is one that looms. My mom’s illness only loomed for a short time before it took her, but those last days, weeks and months were long in my mind, as an observer. The pain I watched her go through. The deterioration. It’s amazing that although her body was being devoured by cancer, her spirit remained strong, stubborn and lovely.

She had to say goodbye to her children forever. The thought of it makes me hurt in ways that I struggle to explain: the head throbbing cry I have when I allow myself "to go there"; the constant ache in my soul; the pit in my stomach when I think about how much I miss her. The umbilical cord is cut. She had to let us go. We had to let her go.

All of this before I’ve even said “hello” to motherhood. I’ve already experienced the heartbreaking story of love and loss between mother and child. I’ve yet to experience the depths from the other side (being the mother) and, like I brave all changes in my life, I will welcome the journey with open arms . . .and prayers/books/therapy/yoga/good friends very near. 

I’m coping. I know you knew I would, Mom.

7.20.2011 (Not today.)

A year ago today, at around 8am in the morning, my mother’s heart stopped for the first time. It took five minutes to resuscitate her.

I was not in the room, but my aunt and oldest brother were. (By that time, we elected to have at least one family member in the hospital room with my mother at all times.)

The screaming phone call I received from my aunt that morning is not something I can ever forget. My aunt’s screaming, the beeping, the chaos. I did not know what was going on. She said nothing but: “Adrienne! Come! Come! Come!”

The panicked feeling and the thoughts, “No, Mom, not yet! Please don’t go! You can’t go! No, no, no, no!”

My boyfriend and I rushing to the hospital. Me screaming when he stopped at a red light when there were no cars around. “Go, go, gooooo! Don’t stop! Who fucking cares?!?!? I have to get to the hospital!”

We get there and we are greeted by my older brother who has just arrived. My younger brother arrives at the same time. My older brother does not tell us what is going on exactly. He just hugs us both.

We go up to a different floor than the one I remember my mother being on the night before when I said goodbye. 

We walk down the long hospital hallway. At the end, I see a woman who is not a nurse, she is the hospital minister. She says “hello” and shakes my hand. We are escorted to a room where there is no hospital bed and there is no Mom, just ugly hospital “sofas” and “chairs.”

“No!!!!!” I shake my head and collapse inward. I do not know who supports me from falling completely out. I think it is one of my brothers, but I am not sure. I close my eyes and I say, “Nononononono!”

My aunt is inconsolable. Everyone is supporting or screaming.

Then, I am seated on an ugly chair and I am calm. My eyes are closed and I say, “It’s okay. She’s okay. It’s okay.” I felt my mother. She was telling me that she was okay and to calm down. It’s all right. I consoled my aunt. I don’t remember what anyone else said, but once we were all together, we went upstairs and into the Cardiac Care Unit where my beautiful mother was hooked up to life support. Tubes everywhere, machines everywhere. Soothing music. I touched her hands. I kissed her. I prayed. I loved.

Later that day, my oldest brother and his fiancé said their vows in the room with her. My grandmother performed the ceremony. My mother's eyes, seemingly unable to track, did look up at my brother and his wife as they kissed. The wedding was scheduled for July 30^th, 2011, 10 days later. I hoped my mom would make it.

9 days later, her heart stopped forever.

Summer and the "Unemployable" (?) Girl

These last few months have been filled with some life changes and lots of traveling. I love going to new places. Right now, while I have the time, I will pretty much go wherever someone suggests. “Why not?” is what I ask myself and if I have no legit reason to decline, I will probably accept the offer. (Probably, not definitely.)

At this moment in my life, I have no kids, no boyfriend, no 9-5 job . . .I can do whatever I want and since this may not be the case in a couple of years, I’m taking advantage of it. I am getting the feeling that I don’t want this summer to end. I love warm weather and the sunshine warms my soul. I need the sun. This past fall, winter and early spring was full of a lot of depression and sadness. I felt alone and isolated. I was grieving and I was lost. I felt cold and exposed. I want summer to be my state of mind all the time.

There is one thing that is lingering in my mind this summer: the fear that I am unemployable.

Okay, so technically since I’m a small business owner, I DO have a job. But, why can’t I confidently tell people that I have a job when they ask? Why am I so insecure? I hate this feeling. I feel like such a loser, but the truth is, people tell me how AWESOME it is that I have my own business. They tell me I should feel accomplished and I just don’t sometimes. I wonder what voice is in my head telling me that what I’m doing simply isn’t good enough? It’s the same voice that tells me I should be working for myself when I’m working for someone else. I need to stop listening to that voice because it is INSANE. I will never please that voice. It’s my inner gremlin and I want to stab it. (Side note: I may be schizophrenic.)

I know I am perfectly capable of running my own business and I love doing so, but the bottom line is that I am not making enough money to support myself. Being a creative entrepreneurial type is wonderful, but it would be DIVINE if I could make a good living doing what I love.

I’ve applied to jobs that I’m overqualified for and I’ve been rejected. I couldn’t even land a retail job because I don’t have enough retail experience. (?????) I have a MASTERS degree and I can’t work at Macy’s? I do not mean to brag or sound pretentious, but I’ve worked hard at my education. However, the sad truth is that my resume is just so all over the place. My background is in marketing, but I have no desire to work fulltime in marketing, especially for someone else. I enjoy marketing my own business, but it’s because I can follow my own vision. It’s because there’s an end to a means. In some small way, I’m helping others. I need what I do for 40 hours a week to have a point. I need to feel good about what I’m doing. 

So why go back to working for someone else?

I want to buy a house. I want to root myself. This is hard for me to do since I do not have a stable career. I know that the path of self-employment is riddled with the perils of not having a W-2 form to prove income and thus acquire a mortgage loan. I knew that this was the road ahead when I parted ways with my last horrid full-time day job. (For the record, I never QUIT that job, although I would be lying if I said I didn’t dream of it every second. I was “let go” because I could not look my boss in the eye and say that I wanted to be there when he asked me. My mother died a week before he asked me this question, so give me a break.)

Striking out on my own requires a ton of sacrifices and I am willing to make them. However, my desire for stability (a regular schedule, my own place, a dependable income) is speaking louder than anything else at this point. I will continue to work on BOOP and love every second of it, but until I can afford to pay all my monthly expenses, I am just going to have to put the job search at the top of my priorities again.

Now, if only I was employable . . .

Oy vey. 

Remembrance

There are days when I am sure that I've dreamt of my mother the night before.

Sometimes I can't remember those dreams, but I know that I wake up feeling different . . .

Closer to the Source, closer to my Mother, closer to Myself.

Strong, positive, female.

As I make important choices and decisions,

As the Outside makes their wishes and desires of me known,

I remember that the only timeline that I must adhere to is my own and God's - which is essentially the same thing.

Everything is connected within and throughout.

There is no right or wrong.

There are lessons and there is Love.

I remember so that I don’t forget.

Freedom of Expression

I am aware that some people may not like the things that I write about. 


Even videos/links that I share on Facebook seem to cause controversy. I find myself censoring myself even though this is MY blog. 


What in the hell is that about?


Life is hard. I've had a shitty year. I am re-learning life in a lot of ways. I'm re-evaluating things. I may make you feel uncomfortable, awkward and upset. Please know that those reactions are not my intention. 


You see, I am inherently a pretty sensitive and aware person. Sure, I am strong-willed, but I am respectful. I am always trying to make people feel comfortable and secure. I could write about my childhood and perform a psychoanalysis on the reasonings behind the way I am, but that isn't important here and now. 


It's all about honesty and expression. I don't think people listen to me sometimes. I feel like I cannot express how I feel without being talked over, misinterpreted or without some people bizarrely making it about them. (For those interested, read about active listening. It's pretty amazing.)


By blogging about my feelings, I hope to shed some light, encourage thought and express myself.


When I started this blog, I wanted to write about writing. It has evolved to posts about a lot of different things (jobs, life, grieving) and I am okay with that.  


I cannot promise that I will not write about my anger and frustrations. I cannot promise that I will not offend. I cannot promise that everything will be picture perfect. Hell, I cannot even promise perfect grammar. 


This is what I can promise:

• Truth
• Mistakes
• A showing of my proverbial warts
• Raw emotions
• Introspection
• Retrospection
• Mostly positivity 
• A little negativity
• Humor
• Sadness
• Growth
• Healing
• A business launch! (Whoo hoo!) 

So, please, stick with me! The best is yet to come . . . 

Oh, and for God's sake, start your own blog or YouTube channel if you want to express yourself and get your stuff out there. In today's day and age, it's really the best way to do it!

A New Start

I’ve had an obviously difficult holiday season, but it has been okay thanks to my amazing family, boyfriend and friends. I am re-adjusting and trying to keep from going insane. A little insanity is okay, I suppose. I am just trying to keep it together somewhat.  I miss my mother deeply and cherish how lucky I was to know her. I continue to be inspired by her everyday. We were very close and although we had our ups and downs, I can say, without a doubt, that we will always stand by one another in love. Even death cannot undo that blessing.

For better or worse, no one can replace your mother. I can never expect anyone to know or love me as deeply and unconditionally as my mother did. She showed such genuine care and even if she didn’t always understand me, she always understood. She tried her best and always did what she believed was right for her children. I believe that she did so until the very end. She wasn’t perfect, but no one is and that is okay.

I struggle with trying to please others. Lord knows that I do not let anyone walk all over me, but I find myself trying to make those around me happy, even if it compromises my own needs. Although I’d like to believe that I truly don’t care what others think about me, I do sometimes. At my core, I just want to be understood and respected. Of course, I want some people to like me, but I’d be a fool if I expected everyone to like me. There are some people who will never like me and there are some people that I will never like. That’s okay. All I can do is be a good person and live my life in such a way that brings me happiness and peace. 

I look forward to this coming year. I am looking forward to finally starting my own successful business. I will go public with it very soon. I am following my dreams and passions. My eyes are opened and life is too short. Stay tuned.

In 2012, I hope to continue healing and growing. I hope to nurture relationships. I hope to say goodbye to anxiety, unhealthy habits and negative thoughts. I hope for prosperity. I hope for good health. I hope for clarity and acceptance. I hope to continue to love and be loved. I hope to write, write, write! 

Oh yeah, and I hope to lose 10 pounds, too. But not if I can’t eat everything that I want to eat. 

Editor’s Note: I know that the previous sentence is a sentence fragment. I don’t care. This is informal writing. When I write a research paper or business document, I write accordingly.

I also look forward to not taking myself too seriously. 

I wish you all warmth and all of the very best things that life has to offer in the New Year and always!

Namaste, indeed!

Social Media and Grief

Here is my latest article on Social Media and Grief.

I mostly believe that social media serves as a positive force in the grieving process. For those who have grieved and used social media, why did you use it and do you believe it helped?

Happy Thanksgiving! Enjoy your holiday and be safe!