Can anybody tell me again why we all wanted to grow up so bad? Because when I was little? I still had a mom. And I didn’t know what anxiety was. I never needed a sleeping pill or an artillery of retaliation quips ready for everyone’s unwanted/unnecessary/unwarranted comments, advice, and opinions. I didn’t say prayers for more than a few minutes when I was little, now I can’t get through my long laundry list of worries and wishes without falling asleep with a little nudge from said sleeping pill. (Disclaimer, I haven’t turned to pills for any other reason since my mom has passed, not even a handy dandy Xanax, #gome #grievinggood) Last time I checked THIS, is modern day adulthood, or “adulting” as the kids call it. 
Sometimes I just want to throw a chair out the window and not worry about the glass shattering, or the chair breaking, or worrying that my husband may check me into four winds if I did so. But sometimes four winds sounds like a grand and glorious fucking vacation from this world. I don’t throw the chair, because normally a pedicure or a trip to express does the trick for my decompressing after a difficult day. Difficult days are also a far cry from what they used to be. My biggest concern in highschool was what song I was gonna play in the parking lot leaving school my senior year. My biggest concern after that was who was gonna chalk my ID for whatever Troy bar we were definitely getting into that night. 
We live in a time where everyone is an automatic expert in EVERYTHING because they can use google. Comments have ruined the Internet. Husbands sometimes turn down sex. People say rude things. Sometimes you feel like calling into work. You expect everyone to be well mannered, motivating, caring, independent, strong minded, empathetic, loving people who encourage their fellow human to be virtually GOOD, and kind. Then there are the meangirl (or guy) type and what I like to refer to as hyenas that need to be re-acclimated to the real world, and reminded of their responsibility to the human race. What happened to women empowering women? (We should be more like men) What happened to being genuine? What is normal?? Why are there people out there being callous and rude and always needing to be the one upper and or know-it-all in your family or group? God I am SICK of it. And another little shoutout to my mom for being the woman who raised me to be who I am. Everything she was and everything she wasn’t made me who I am and damn, am I happy God picked her to raise me.
I think I’m a pretty well rounded, empathetic and caring person. My intentions are always 100% genuine and I try to live a life I’m proud of. I use my manners, I compliment, and I praise. If someone is near me and they are crying, you can bet your bottom dollar I’m crying too. I like to do my best every day and make someone (everyone) around me happy. Sometimes, people don’t like confident people, and that’s ok. It’s not about them. Some, less evolved/low vibration people think that by trying to rain on your parade, other people won’t want to be part of the attraction that is you. 
………. (I find this to be) WRONG! Try again. What’s the saying? Something about trying to dull someone’s light won’t make yours shine any brighter? Bingo, my friends. Bingo. 

Being a grown up is awesome. It’s rewarding, it’s vacations with my family. It’s money in the bank account and sometimes splurging on a new Michael Kors. Being a grown up also sucks. It’s challenge after challenge, it’s a vacation without my mom, it’s money spent on necessity rather than a want. 
It can get pretty messy up here in grownup land. All of it. The friendships, the bedtime routine, the bank account, the sex life. And I’m ok with it. I’m ok with putting it all out there because I’m a human, just trying to get through this wonderful, tragic season of my life called 32. It helps to know someone in this life is feeling what I’m feeling. Understands how I understand. And wishes we didn’t spend the easier times hoping to be grown ups one day. 

Another bad day, and I’m on the couch unwinding/decompressing because although at 10:30 I was exhausted and ready for bed, my dog escaped in the three minutes she wasn’t gated,  pissed on the floor again, and it ran underneath my purse, Mav’s diaper bag, and inside my bag full of color and developer. #fuckyoustella

I’m ok when I’m crying. I really am. I actually kind of have to be, and once it’s all said and done, it usually lasts around an hour and then I feel relief for a little. And I’m okay with my sadness, because it’s the blueprint for a love that once was whole inside me. What’s a little difficult is how quickly it washes over me, and how easily it comes flowing out of me. I used to have an easier time navigating,  think of it like an up to date gps system of sorts. Now my map has disconnected roads and longer routes, lots of road blocks and detours, rain, and shifty roadwork but I still have a sense of where I am.
Today was a very hard day. And I almost want to say shame on you Brianna. Shame on you for putting yourself out there in any way for anyone to assume you are “ok” because as “ok” as I am, I am still completely fucking lost. I’m writing this because my eyes are burning and my soul is seething tonight. Some days are just hard. Some days I want to sit in a pile and eat chocolate by the bar and drink wine in complete silence. I want to tell every single person who calls me to kindly leave me alone and just be there for me when I’m ready. I want to be so selfish and take time for myself. I want to drop Mav off for two hours and not feel guilt or rushed. In that two hours I want to make the 7 phone calls I’ve either ignored or haven’t made, get a pedicure and peruse Marshalls for the majority of that time. 
I sometimes talk to myself now. When something is making me mad I find myself talking out loud to myself. I repeat myself a lot. I start more conversations saying “wait tell me if I already told you this.” I ask my husband if it’s scary to watch me go through this; because as much as he has been a rock for me, he can’t go through this with me because he simply hasn’t experienced it. I can’t make a decision to save my life, (and it fucks with me hardcore, I have a full blown anxiety attack where my hands are shaking and then I know it’s just a matter of time before I’ll start crying so I just sit myself down and invite the tears to fall.) over what my plan is for my next day off. Over what I want to do this weekend. Over what to make for dinner. #hatethissomuch 

See the problem with grief is, you have one good day and everyone thinks boom she’s over it, she’s laughing. No. Dead wrong. It’s just that I’m sick of being sad and not feeling entirely like my former self and I need a release too. My work is an amazing outlet for me (work and Mav are the absolute remedy for me right now.) I get to basically make money for a hobby of mine every other day. I get to be creative and use my talent and release some pent up stuff. I get to talk to so many people in a day’s work that it’s more beneficial for me to do that then to see a therapist. Wanna know why? Because I believe a therapist won’t tell me anything I don’t already know. The one thing about me, blessing and a curse, is that I’m always so acutely aware of my issues, I just have a problem with acting on the changing to fix it part. I’m a stubborn, smart, confident, very conscious of others kinda girl, and I pride myself on knowing how to act in many situations, which brings me to what I think is my best quality: Being the (second) most empathetic person I know. 

So yeah, it sucks. My life fucking sucks right now. Of course I have the most supreme honor of being a mother to my Mav. Of course I have a wonderful husband. Of course I still have my dad and my brother my sister and many family members through so many beautiful marriages in these families I’m blessed to belong to. And of course I am SO FUCKING grateful for these things. But the loss of my mother has blown the bottom out of a very strong foundation I was standing on. Because I was standing alongside her. Because she always, always was there for me, even when I didn’t deserve that support. She stood next to me, and let me lean on her. She held me up when I was weak, or frail in my emotions. She pulled me when she knew I needed the extra encouragement. She pushed me when I needed some balls. God she had the biggest balls my mom. And when I didn’t want her to even do anything, she would go above and beyond and behind me to stand up for me, because I was hers. My. God. One tough woman she was. 

So I’m just sad. And it hurts my entire body. And it makes me cry. I’ve heard some noises come out of my mouth that have actually scared me. And sometimes, the absence of her? …..man. It makes me not want to go on. 

But she would pull me by my hair and tell me I’m going the fuck on, and she’ll let me know when it’s my time, because “she’s the mother.”

I just miss you. And I still needed you here. What about if I get pregnant again? Who will I call first? Who will come to my appointments with me? Who will help me and hold me through 43 hours of labor and 2 hours of pushing? Who mom? I don’t even care because it won’t be you and that kills me. What about when it’s late and I’m fighting with Dan and all I wanna do is talk to you because you just understood me more than I ever gave you credit for? What about Christmas? What about all the little special things we’d bring to each other on a regular basis because “we just couldn’t leave it in the store” it’s just so completely hollowing to know I will never feel your hug again. I still can’t call you. No more pictures. Karaoke nights. It’s all just a memory now. And I hate that now they’re only memories but I love them all at once. I promise I’ll always keep them safe. I promise to always keep your name fresh on my tongue. There is a place, so deep down inside me that longs to be your baby again. To relive our story all over. To cherish the love I felt from you. To give you more love than I did. The darkest corners of my brain have you in them. The deepest part of my heart is broken. I long for the day I will reunite with you. I feel less and more on a whole new level. I feel robbed and cheated but I know where you are this was all part of our plan as mother and daughter. I remember when I first had Maverick, and all I did was stare at him and tell him ‘I love you’ probably 150 times a day, you would say “I wish you told me you loved me as much as you say it to him!” And mama. I wish I did too. I wish I did too. 

Wanna Know how I know I’m having the best summer ever? Because not only have I learned all about heartbreak and depression, but today I get to break in my 32 years with a ROOT CANAL! HOLLER!
Kill me. Seriously. 90 minutes in a dentist’s chair is painful to even think about. But to me what is more scary and painful than the dentist is this: (some) PEOPLE.
I’m almost two months deep without having my mom, and you wouldn’t believe the lessons I’ve learned. Yes of course I have come to start accepting the greatest heartache I’ve ever endured. Boyfriends who were drug addicts and best friends turned idiots have nothing on this kind of heart trauma… But you know what’s just about as bad as losing someone you love? Nosey people. People who invite themselves into your life dressed like pretty little sheep when in fact they are scary, selfish wolves. 
People who are more interested in why you’re sad than why you’ve, idk maybe been happy in the last few years. People who open up the lines of communication only to the pull the plug after, for lack of a better expression, the novelty of my sadness has worn off and become less important to them.
I give you this, prodding assholes of the world; My sadness will never not be important, for it is a part of my very DNA now. And I hate that. And sometimes the good person inside me forgets that some people will never, ever change, and that is very sad for them. When people weasel their way into your life because a door has been broken open, and in this case the door is my heart, and my welcome mat is vulnerable, tattered and sad but they wipe their dirty feet on it and waltz right in anyway. I hate to sound so rude and cynical but for fucks sake I lost my mom and I now understand that saying no to someone or something you just don’t feel like dealing with or doing, is saying YES to yourself. 
So here is me saying yes to myself. I have had the worst year of my life. More tragedy than triumph, and somehow I still wake up, brush my teeth, work, clean my house, love my husband, raise my son and continue the role as daughter and sister to the greatest people I know. Because I am strong, I am important, I am worthy of being happy, and with all of that, I am allowed to be sad, and sometimes cautious of people with weird and selfish intentions. For now, I have this special and magical inside information that I wish I didn’t, but am starting to realize that it is a gift to know what I know, and a gift worthy of having after watching one of the most excruciating things I’ll ever see. Although I would give that gift of knowing, back at any cost to just squeeze my mom one more time. I know it’s one of the greatest lessons she left for me here on earth, to live and love like it’s your last day here.
My life is not a spectacle, or a topic of conversation. Sometimes it’s happiness, and Mav being hilarious, and flowers on my door step. Then there are days where I pour a shot of captain and cheers a candle I lit for my precious and gorgeous mother, only to cry over its rim and sit on the very stormy shores of my heart shattering sadness because I can’t make a simple decision anymore. 
With all this being said. I am so thankful for the people who I know are real, and pure and true. I’m thankful for the way you pick me up, and sense when I’m sad, and know why I say no to plans. I’m thankful you are holding tight to my pieces and keeping them safe for me as I learn how to pick them back up. I also know that if I forget the way they go back together that you will help me remember. I hope you know I love you more than I can ever explain in words. That I’m thankful for the ways you’re keeping me safe, and keeping me up.

I just have to say. Entering another month without my mother earth side is killing me. It’s just plain difficult. Yesterday I received some pretty terrible news about another precious life taken entirely, and way. too. soon. I felt like I had no air to speak with when I found out. How could anything else tragic possibly even happen after the greatest loss I’ve ever known is still fresh in my bones? 
I’m no guru, and I am no expert at anything, really (except maybe drinking things out of a straw, yeah I’ve definitely mastered that and how to make laundry smell like mildew in the summer, I’m doing that really well) but seriously. I have to send a message out to everyone. Especially in the world I live in today, the world we all live in. 
I watched my poor mother take her very last breaths. I watched her and I don’t know if I will ever write about how awful it all was because it’s far too painful to rethink or replay. So take it from me only because I saw the most fragile and precious thing we have in this life, end. I watched a life leave. I watched my mother die. It makes me sick to admit that and I hate the feelings the word “die” does to my insides only because I have such a real and raw connection to the word now. 
So when I say the only things you get to take with you when you go, are the memories that fill your brain, the moments that make your heart pump faster, the times that can manage to bring tears to your eyes at any point in time. The way you treated others. The way you love, the way you may have hated. The things you remember, the stories your loved ones share with you one last time. That’s it, it’s ALL you have.
The one and only blessing in this terrible situation, was being Rita’s daughter. There was not many people that asked me to leave the room when they said their special goodbye to my mother. Actually, no one asked me to leave. I heard the most sincerest of words. I cried alongside the saddest faces I’ve ever seen. I heard stories about my beautiful mother I never knew. How special is that? To connect with so many of my mom’s most precious relationships and witness the friendships she cherished in the very bitter end?
My mother had a magical life. Although I’m still downright pissed off about the way it all happened and how she was plucked from this life all too soon, I take peace inside my heart that while she was here, she walked on a gorgeous path, alongside a wonderful man, and they pushed limits and loved fiercely and brought three lives into this world together. She and my dad gave us a beautiful and wholesome childhood, taught us about how important family is, and how stupid grudges were. She was a force on earth, and as I start to feel her around me, I realize how powerful and how fiercely she loves me from beyond. 
My mother had everything a girl could want while she was here on earth. To date, she has 5 closets and 7 dressers full of stuff. She wanted for nothing, and if she ever did, my father would spoil her and she would get it. She was outspoken, hilarious and always a step ahead of you. She laid in a bed, unable to speak with her family, for over a week. She was wearing a hospital gown and special hospital socks. Her eyes were so sad, her skin looked so young. I realize now that the woman who had everything, left this world with nothing but her most favorite people by her side. Holding her hands, her feet, her face, anything we could touch. We sang her favorite songs and talked as normally as we could around her. Until the very hollowing end. The end that gutted us, and ripped our hearts out. All she had was the people she taught how to love. The people she spent a lifetime loving. The people who so fiercely and loyally loved her back. 
So I say this. Please, go out and live like you are dying. Because you are. We all are. And I’m not being morbid or depressing, I’m being real. Love the people who you love. The people you don’t like or don’t love don’t ever need to know, so give them that too. Be kind. Be understanding. I wear a smile a lot, when inside I feel like my heart is breaking off into raindrops, never to return, taken away by a storm of sadness. But I smile because I was loved by the greatest woman to ever walk God’s green earth. I smile because I belong to a rare and special family. I find happiness in my brother and sister, and that I still have her other half who loves me more than I think he even knew before all this. (Daddy, I never loved you more. And I am so proud of you.) I smile because I have a son and a husband, a life I am so proud of. And the best things my mother couldn’t take with her, they’re left here in her wake, in her honor. Those things live inside of us. The morals, the respect, the wit, the humor, the mannerisms, the LOVE. And because she loved us, we try to go on in a way that will make her smile when she checks in on us from up above. 
LIVE your life today and every day, and be sure to spread a little more warmth, even when the sun is shining. Because sometimes that’s when people need it most ☀️