5 years ago today...
And trauma time fuckery
I recall where I was on the 19th of December, 5 years ago today, December 19, 2019.
I was walking into a Walgreens, headed toward the pharmacy. I was picking up a prescription that would evacuate my dead baby from my womb.
As I walked in I heard, “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!”
I snorted, rolled my eyes and teared up.
I was thinking about this earlier because my sweet former neighbor/adopted grandmother complimented me on my purse.
I thanked her and told her that my mother had bought it for me.
She said it held up well, but then said she hadn’t been gone long, had she?
I had to pause and think.
I realize it will be 5 years on January 4th that my beloved mommy passed on.
It feels like a lifetime ago.
I have read that social media post that says that others feel like they have lived several lifetimes since 2020.
It’s easy to understand why - the pandemic, for starters.
The layers of all that have happened in these past five years still astound me -
—My brother’s suicide.
—Another miscarriage
—Emotional abuse/heartbreak and betrayal from a narcissist ex
—Moving across the country, twice.
—Many hard days of sleeplessness, tears, depression, melting into self-medication of alcohol.
And, a lot, a lot of different types of therapy.
And some that surprised me - a lot of sobering truths and realities about the people in my life, who I considered my closest people.
I have learned so much, changed so much and seen a lot change for me in five years.
My life looks different than I ever thought it would.
When you experience major life changes and collective trauma - as we all did, to varying degrees, with COVID - it’s easy to marvel at the passing of time and what changed, how you changed, and how it seems both another lifetime ago, a vague dream, and yesterday, all at once.
Trauma fucks with your head and the steady recollection of your memories, making it all seem very discombobulated, disconnected, like you’re lucking in on a life that you can’t feel exactly in touch with having, like those alternative realities presented in the Christmas Carol.
Some of it is our brain’s way of disassociating and protecting ourselves.
As I think about it now, I again, am amazed that 5 years ago today, I had no idea of just how much my world and the whole world would change in the next six months. It’s staggering, really. We’re still reeling from it.
But - to comfort myself, I again turn to my reassurance that my mother is at peace now. She was so unwell for so many years at the end of her life.
I feel like with the passing of time, I can finally scope the total of her life, rather than the last five years of it, and remember her for all that she was.
I miss you, mommy, and I hope my spirits of my babies are with you right now. Because there would be no better place for them, in heaven, in my God’s and mother’s arms.
Merry Christmas, all.
