Its been over a year if not more... but I am here and I am back.
This time I will blog it all out, maybe thats my way of staying insane, maybe its the only way too. I started and stopped blogging due to a personal crises, a real big one that shook me to the core, I know I wasnt stable for a long time and just acting fine but I am sure now that I wasnt and that I kindda of sure what was that all about. I kept playing it cool and acting normal, I even acted on myself trying to believe am all the same and nothing changed. And though I never open my heart and soul to anyone, once for not being accused of insanity, and once for not being taken advantage of, yet this time I just dont care anymore what others might think of me as all I know for now that I am all alone in life and everyone is for himself. No matter how many friends you have or loved ones, at the end of the day, you are to be alone with all your demons and people are just too frustrated to help each other anymore.
So I will start with my story during the last two years, its gonna be exactly 2 years next 25th of May, the day I was home sick and I woke up on a phone call from my dad informing me that mum is in hospital for some regular check ups, an hour later he called coldly to tell me that she died, period and he hung up immediately. Now I can remember the day as for the past months I kind of managed to block it. I remember laughing and crying at the same time, yes I know what dead means but its just not possible, she was just fine, its just check ups, the ones she does every now and then, its no big deal, what the hell?!
I remember people coming to our house in black and I rushing to my room changing my shirt and putting on a black one over my jeans and not caring much, I remember not being able to cry even though their faces was so gloomy and the blackness indicated the loss of someone! I sat there calmly while her friends collapsed one after another, my younger brother stood still and didnt say a word, I guess he was just absorbing it and I was just observing them and not getting whats the big deal is, say what you want, it just cant be!
A week passed by and people kept on coming, great distraction from the real thing, dad getting sick in bed and my brothers and sister looking very tired and gloomy, I stepped to my room feeling nothing still but while I passed by the mirror I saw someone looking at me with wide eyes full of tears, I didnt even get what am I crying for, I cant get it yet. A month and I was just the same crying every night but without feeling a thing, I tried to get it, and while my heart told me that something bad happened, my mind just refused the truth of her departure. That day they all gathered to bury her I didnt get the chance to even say goodbye, back then dad believed thats better and to me it was a proof that she really didnt die, her casket to me seemed empty, she cant be in there but I just got to fake it or the crowd will believe me to be insane, so I kept on crying while in mind I was just working on fooling everybody around and showing them that I do get it and that yes my mum just died and I am accepting it, but the truth was I didnt cause simply to me she cant die, she just cant.
I guess I was a very good actress who managed to fake it cleverly or so I thought, my friends came to comfort me and I was just acting as an adult who can get it all and trying to convince them that I am fine and I get it, if they think she is dead then okay she is but at the end of the day and to me she never left, maybe when they let it go, maybe when the entire play is over she will return, and to such thought I kept clinging. If they got that I dont believe in death and dont believe she died they might start on looking at me differently and I dont need pity and I am not crazy to be treated like that. I must convince them all that I am a grown up who is "religious" who is grieving silently, who do get it, who believes in death, heaven and hell !
I guess after 2 months my dad insisted on me going away and though I didnt get why he is so persistent but I managed with some friends to go on a trip for 2 weeks abroad. I left wearing black and there I changed it to other colors. The trip did me well, I totally forgot about the play, there is nothing I have to fake in here, and I didnt even bring my mum up to any conversation. I can remember few glances and some pity looks but I did ignore as to me who are they pitying,when I go home she will be there and they will all see who the insane one is.
But I guess that when I got back and entered her room to find it as it is with no sign of her existence I said to myself well she is not back yet. Two days passed by and while I was emptying my bags I found that I didnt buy mum anything this time while I always get her something, so I entered the room again and start smelling her clothes to prove to myself that no one can die and his smell is still in his clothes! Then it just hit me, I am holding to clothes nothing else, whats left of her is her clothes hanging in her closet and not being used for 2 months. I guess a minute passing like hours I was just standing alone in her room and for the first time my mind said it out loud... mum died and she is not coming back. And that was the real day she died, that was the day I started knowing what grieving is like, that was the day my dad looked me differently, he looked at me silently as if he is saying you finally got it you can stop faking being okay with it now and just cry for real. Right before this slap on the face I was enjoying faking it for real, I even posted pictures of my trip online so that my friends will get that I am just fine and I did get over her departure, but the fact was that I was just living in denial and seem that they did knew about my play or at least so did my dad who wanted to introduce the death fact to me but slowly and gently.This time I absorbed it and it just killed me. This fact did ruin my life and I just collapsed right this minute I got it and I believe that the day I really realized that mum died was the same day I grew older, angrier and was the same I lost the old me and guess with it I lost my faith too. That was the day in which nothing mattered anymore, I lost faith, I hated life, and I hated the fact of me living it, I started questioning God and I am still tortured with anger and debates. I care no more for an aim, love or job, I grew cynical and more furious with everything.
And till now I guess I didnt get the real fact of death and I am so tired of trying to accept it. Death was a wake up call that opened the door for alot of ugly thoughts that I guess I did run from for the sake of accepting life as it is. But since that day I really do care for nothing, I lost interest in life and every day is just like living in death, all my worries and all my fears now is about me losing another beloved once again to death and with such fear am living, breathing and trying to survive every single day.
To me, there is no freedom of choice when it comes to death, I sure didnt die yet but a huge part of me did that day and though I still go to her grave not being able to shed a tear, I still gaze at the ground she is buried under and wondering what the truth is, heaven and hell to me sounds now like a fairy tale and nothing is the same anymore, religions are full of double standards and faith is just .... undefinable.