I fell into a content creator’s feed that resonated.
She must have lost her mom two years ago as well.
She said how when your mom dies, there’s the “before” you and the “after” you. And there’s no going back.
Truth.
She also said that, two years in, you’re mostly settled into the person you are now.
More truth.
The big truth, which I could have also told you, is that once you’ve watched your person die, you don’t give a singular shit about anything.
This girl phrased it well. That she used to cry over work or boys. That she just felt everything SO BIG when her mom was alive.
And now, who cares. No one to talk about it with anyway.
Had to double-check and make sure her username wasn’t mine.
I have a couple friends who ask a lot of questions. It’s not that it bugs me, but it’s that I personally do not care about the details of my own life that much to give them oxygen.
So to ask about an event and then follow up with how did I feel about it or what prompts in ChatGPT did I use to find that event, no.
I would have told mom because we had 24 hours to fill.
It’s weird how happy I am in silence now.
That is absolutely not who I was two years ago.
I think back to when my Old Gram, Gram and Grampy died.
Don’t get me wrong, I was devastated. More devastated with each death, really. Like, I went from “They won’t be sick anymore” to “They won’t be mine anymore.”
But it wasn’t permanently debilitating, you know?
Losing your person, your mom, is that emotional car crash that alters your personality for life.
Like I assume I’ll see ol Goonhilda this year after mercifully not having to look at that deconstructed dump cake last year.
Two years ago, I was just disgusted and honestly ready to punch back if wackadoodle wackadoodled. Like why you insist on being in my space, hoe.
This year, I could stand five inches from that thing and look straight through it. Shit I don’t even dread seeing Don’t Treadmill on Me because that’s how I deal with that, too.
Well, the latter I did laugh at on a call yesterday. Loudly. And it wasn’t at a joke.
I mean, I guess I DID laugh at a joke. Ahem.
Two years ago me used to just hang up. Now to sit there with my wish a bitch would face was my entertainment for the day.
I didn’t say you change for the worse when your mom dies. You just change.
And you realize the less time you spend tolerating losers is time well not wasted.