I know it's my fault. I know I let everyone believe I'm doing great. I know I smile like a pro. I was cracking jokes at the funeral for crying out loud! When asked how I'm doing, my response these days has been a chipper "Oh fabulous". It's automatic. I don't even think about it.

This is a situation I've never faced. I've never been so close to someone who has passed away. I have never ached for somebody as much as I ache for my Mom. I don't know how to handle it, why should anyone else? I'm intimidating, so is my life.

I don't want to leave my apartment. I want to become a recluse, a hermit. I want to stay here. My older, more mature friends want me to come to their homes all the time. No. I don't like it there. I want to be here. I want to be around the things my Mama gave me, and sit on the chair she loved and cuddle the stuffed animals she gave me.

This has been going on since I was 16. I have been watching this happen for nine years. It turns you into a neurotic freak. Friendships in high school were mutilated through my inability to handle my own life. Your mentality and maturity bounces back and forth between different ages. You're five, wanting your mommy. Your twelve, barely understanding anything, then you're sixteen, trying to experience your own age...but mostly, mostly you're in your late twenties, early thirties... dealing with things that shouldn't even be recognizable to you yet.

I think I'm crazy. I think my brain is split into sections that shouldn't exist. I think I'm screwed up. But I think I'm repairable.

My life for the past nine years settled into a routine. A routine I was somehow able to handle. I compartmentalized the anguish to deal with at a later time. Guess what? It's later. I have to follow my own metaphor and open the junk closet little by little, but I don't feel like it. I just want to keep it closed, and huddle up under childhood memories and melt my brain in front of a television set.

I miss friends. Real friends. Good friends. Friends who are not banished from my life by miles, but instead only blocks away. Did I ever have those? Friends who would drop everything to come to my aid as I did for them? Or did I lose those all in the scuffle? The transition of the life I wasn't ready for taking over my existence.

I have to start over now, or rather... I get to. There's no Mom to care for, no excuse for not moving forward. But there is also no motivation. Now what? First, I have to crack the mask. Kill it, destroy it... allow myself to not be okay. Allow myself to crumble.

It's a very selfish part of me that's keeping that at bay. If I fall apart, I almost feel like it needs to be in front of someone, almost as if I need a witness as proof that I really allowed it to happen. Ideally, of course, this person would be a man who loves me. That's probably the Hollywood Romantic in me, but still... that's the scene my heart is craving. A big dramatic gesture, permission from my love to fall apart while falling into him. How poetic... I guess if I were to wait for such a scenario, I may be waiting quite awhile.

I am so tired. So tired. My eyes hurt. I wish I had a time machine. I wonder how far back I would go? I feel so unbelievably alone. Living alone doesn't help. Every phone call I consider making, I talk myself out of. Why? Because I am a burden. My life is a burden to me, it goes without saying it would be a burden to another.

Goodnight. Badnight. It doesn't matter which. Turn the TV on until you sleep... and then the dreams come. My Mom is in my dreams, every night. Last night, we saw a play. She held my hand and cried, saying this is how we will spend time together. I could feel her, I could smell her, and her voice was so real. So near. My throat closed up, aching with sadness. I woke up, and she was gone. Is this really my Mama keeping me company in my sleep? Can she talk to me there? Can she hold me there? I've decided to believe it's really her, that God has allowed me this miracle. My Mama, my Angel, my hope.

I hope I will see you again tonight. I hope I will sleep longer tonight.

Her service was beautiful. We all wore bright, Hawaiian colors to honor her favorite place. I sang at my Mama's funeral, not sure how. Can't exactly remember doing it, but have been told it was a beautiful farewell.

I can't explain how I feel now. I can't even explain it to myself. For years I have fought this fight with her, focusing my entire life around that of my Mother's... and now her life is over. My life is just beginning.

I resented my Mom for many things. We faced a lot of rocky roads. However, looking back, the good far outweighed the bad. The last couple of years I was her glorified chauffeur, driving her to and from her medical appointments. We found ways to make it fun, her demanding and often times demeaning behavior had subsided, the illness oddly calming her over time. We enjoyed each other's company. We enjoyed it quite a bit.

I've always done everything with my Mom, and I am feeling the loss of that more than anything. We were very similar, she and I. I see that more now than I was willing to admit in the past. I spent every single day with her. It was tiring, and sometimes I even found myself resenting her for being sick. But she was all I had. She was all I had.

Every day we'd find a way to make the day worth living. Whether it was a trip to the movies, or to the zoo, or just an impromptu lunch that lasted hours. We would always find something. One afternoon we went to the library, and dug through old movies until we went home with an armload of Betty Davis. Pretty sure we only ended up watching one, but the hunt was exciting.

Everyone misses Mama, I know that. But I feel like I'm not allowed to miss her as much as Sunnie does. Sunnie is getting married, Sunnie is miserable that Mom can't be with her on her big day. Doesn't she see she won't be with me either? Mom helped Sunnie pick out her wedding dress. My Mama will never be able to do that with me.

I know Sunnie is getting married, and it's a big deal. I know this is her time to be fawned over. But truth be told, it's just bad timing. This is a horrible time for me to be forced to slip into the background unnoticed. True, she is the only bride, but she is not the only girl to have just lost her mother.

I am insanely jealous, and i admit it. Sunnie is marrying a wonderful man, and inheriting an entire family. She has another Mother, and Father, and siblings, and cousins, aunts and uncles. My family grows smaller by the minute. I don't have another family to cry to, to hide with, to feel better with. As much as they offer to be there for me, I'll never be another Sunnie.

I am no stranger to depression. I can feel myself slipping away, withdrawing to the point of disappearance. Before, when I would start feeling like life was about to swallow me whole, I would remind myself that there was a bigger picture. A situation bigger than sadness, and that was my Mama. Every day I would go home from work and change, and want ti stop existing, but get in the car anyway and go to her house. There is no Mama now. There is no bigger anything to focus on.

One could argue that i have my writing. I do, it's true. But I haven't the heart right now. I just don't. I don't know how to get it back.

I screwed up somewhere. I screwed up big. There were a total of two TWO people that i have known for over a year that came to my Mama's service. Two. I hadn't realized how much I had isolated myself during my care for her. Since the service, one person has shown up at my door to offer their comfort and support.

There are several well wishes, and "my thoughts and prayers are with you and your family"...they are all sorry for my loss. I know that they have no idea what to say, or what to do. They tell me they're there for me when I need them. Well, I don't need them THERE I need them HERE. Again, again... it's not support if you have to go looking for it, and ask for it. Stop telling me to come to you, I'm the broken one. Come to ME. PLEASE. I'm begging you. If I have to call you up and ask you, that's called pity, no matter how you roll it. I know people don't want to feel bad, neither do I. That's not why I want to see you. I just want a reason to be anywhere but inside my head, and that can't be left up to me.

I am slipping away, and I'm letting it happen. I'm okay with it this time. I've got just me to lean on right now. Those nearest and dearest to my heart are otherwise occupied or out of state.

I feel angry, but I have no good reason. I have obviously put up walls, and pushed when I thought I was pulling. You can only tell people so many times that you need them. You admit it, and they tell you "Well, just let me know"... I thought I did that?? I thought my telling you I need you was enough! Our door is always open, well great. So is mine. And since I can barely walk outside of my own, perhaps you should come to me. Please come to me.

You think you've been a good friend, but nobody comes. Sunnie had so much support. Even Kelly had more people show up, and she lives in New York. Where did I screw up? I get cards and emails "I love you so much..." then where are you all? Why am I alone? Every single day, why am I alone?

Why can't I have someone to go to the movies with? Why can't I have someone to watch AMC with and recreate deli salads with? Why is my Mama dead? Why am I plagued by horrific images with no way to get them out of my head? Why am I still here? Why is this still my life?

You'd think after the death, certain problems would end. Not get bigger... I thought people kept their distance because they didn't know how to handle the dying. They can't handle the dead either. Well, neither can I. Who do I talk to? Who holds me?

I hate Valentine's Day. This year would be a really great year to love it. A really great year to have one. A valentine, that is. To have arms around me, and kisses on my forehead. To listen to a heartbeat that isn't fading away. Oh, please Lord. Yes please.

I am hurt. I am wounded. I am sad. I am lonely. I am scared.

I admit it! Now what?