For two miserable days, I’ve been emotionally discombobulated wandering aimlessly around this apartment
Instinctively, I assumed it to be the dead man, naturally playing amongst the strings of my raw emotions, but it wasn’t. My sister Lou Lou came over to drop off my keys and during our conversation it became abundantly clear. As we were sitting here in the living room talking, my sister asks me. “Can you believe mother would have been 65 years old today if she were still alive?” Just like that, like turning on a light switch, my entire emotional roller coaster was explained.
What amazes me is how I can be unaware it’s her birthday, but subconsciously it still affects me. It’s been like that since her passing. And has been for two days now. Forgetting her birthdate is one thing, but it’s impossible to not notice the entire month of October. Typically, every year as September is ending, I get sadder and more depressed. That’s how it continues grimly till the 31st of October. It’s virtually like the identical thing to how the dead man’s and my relationship plays over from the beginning to the end on a repeat player. That is what happens with me the month of her death.
From the front of this apartment to the back, I can detect the dead man’s unavoidable presence in every room. Starting in the kitchen where I used to diligently prepare our meals. Since he left, I can count on one hand how many times I’ve turned my stove on. Next heading back to the closet where his clothes used to hang, that’s still a negative space I avoid if possible. In this apartment that he and I found, no desolate corner is safe. Whatever corner I go for to find an emotional moment of peace, I find him there waiting for me. I don’t even use what used to be our bedroom. To be honest, I don’t use the back side of the apartment at all. Those three spaces and the kitchen are like black holes to me. His overpowering presence in this apartment is extremely haunting. There are even times like last night I could believe he was staring at me from behind.
Right after the dead man moved and went back home with his mammy, I earnestly believed I needed to stay in this apartment. Afraid to lose the one thing I had left of him. Now 6 months later and a plethora of mental games, I’ve never wanted to move as much as I do now. When I started contemplating this move, I kept getting caught up on something. Fact is, if I move my sister and nephew would be stranded here without reliable transportation. This isn’t my problem, I’m aware of that. However, by heart being the person that I am, it’s undoubtedly going to be hard for me to selfishly abandon them. Abandoning them here without a way to work, shop, everything I don’t imagine my heart will allow. All I can do is pray about it and leave it in God’s hands.
There’s not a way to sugar coat the fact that I’m being emotionally dissolved from within. Of course, it’s tearing me apart that I’m never allowing myself to talk to the dead again. However, do I think it’s necessary? Absolutely I do. Do I harbor love for him? Yes, I do, but that does not mean that I’m IN love with the dead. My schedule is all booked up, and all time slots for little boys who like playing mind games are full. Not one bit do I desire to be mentally toyed with by a narcissistic dead man. I already have enough on my plate for him to be adding his games.
I have reached my emotional limit. Any more I’ll be past the point of return. The last time I felt anywhere near how I’m feeling at present, I tried extinguishing my own life. There was not one ounce of fun in attempting to snuff out my life. Once I was consciously aware of where I was, and what I had done. I relinquished all control of my emotions. Weeping, the first thing I did was humbly thank God. For graciously allowing me to continue living life. Genuinely I knew without him I would have died. In that extraordinary moment I made a promise to both myself and to god, that under no circumstance would I attempt that again. Ultimately, God allowed me to continue living. On top of that, he provided me with the clear understanding that I’m on this planet for a reason. The fact that I lived meant whatever my purpose is, it hasn’t been completed. From this experience in my life, I will pull the much-needed strength and courage to forget I ever encountered this enraged dead man.
“I rely on my chaos and the light more than my silence and the nights as it paves the way through all the dark loneliness that used to haunt me in the midnights when a part of me surrounded by you, left along with you.” -Aayushi-
Born October 11th, 1975 in a small township in Missouri. Reared by a stay-at-home mom and a furniture factory working stepdad. With three siblings plus myself all my parents could afford was a simple existence, but I wouldn’t exchange those days with anyone or for nothing. I’m second to the oldest child with an older sister who is three years my senior. A brother who is three years younger than me, and our baby sister who is three years younger than my brother. Twenty days after my twenty-first birth on Halloween 1996, we suffered the loss of our precious mother. Our lives were altered instantly. Nothing for me has been normal since. I've found a "new" normal yet it's nowhere near the same. When 2020 began, my mother was extremely near, and she hadn't left. It will be soon, and I'll be in her arms again.