I’ve been using my blog and social media as a space to share my raw emotions and personal challenges, giving myself permission to be honest, vulnerable, and unpolished. It’s about recognizing the power of perspective, even when confronting the most painful parts of life.
To those who’ve joined recently and might not know the full context—my family has been facing deep struggles since June—I realize some of my recent posts may have seemed harsh. In context, my little sister woke up to find her father in the lawn just a few weeks ago after a suicide, and the doctors told me last week my mother may not make it past Christmas.
It’s a hell of a thing that I don’t know how anyone would approach or process, and then you sprinkle in my mother’s confusion and paranoia, which often leads to her lashing out at those closest to her and it’s been an impossible situation for half a year now.
There’s a wide range of perspectives from a wide range of people, but one thing is an absolute fact; the police, EMTs, hospitals all know us by name and know it’s time for mom to re-visit the ICU when they start receiving panicked calls and weird accusations from mom, as she is back, again, for the 10th time now.
I pray that she will listen to her doctors and actually go to rehab this time, like all of us kids, and Mike tried repeatedly so she has a shot at recovery and we finally break this loop, as it’s very obviously not working.
I miss my mom.
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