Surviving the Aftermath

They say when life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade. Well, it's always easier said than done when your brain can't quite function at the capacity in which it used too.

My therapist describes grief as sort of a traumatic brain injury. Interestingly enough, that makes sense to me.

Moms Favorite; Mimosas on Easter Morning 2019

Six months ago before my mom was diagnosed with Cancer, you could pile on task after task for me to complete and I wouldn't even think twice about it. I would just put my head deep into my work and get that sh*t done! I could attend gatherings at friends and never once think about the aftermath of my emotions, or how to control my emotions as the day went on. I could go to bed at night and rest peacefully knowing that there wasn't anything bad in my world that was the unimaginable and that I couldn't survive it. I could walk into a grocery store, pull out my list and gather my groceries without feeling like the walls were closing in on me, or that I couldn't breathe.

I have learned quite a bit about this so called "grieving process". If you haven't heard it before, there are five stages in which you go through when grieving. They consist of denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.

There are many different articles, videos, and viewpoints on these stages. However, for myself I find them to be exactly what I am experiencing.

The first one is the most interesting one in my opinion. I have had others say to me "Well when your mom first died, you just seemed fine so I didn't think you needed to talk about it."

Thank you kind person for judging a book by it's cover.

I believe my denial stage lasted a little longer than it should have due to the fact that when I was taking care of my mom, my body reacted in a way that it responded to care-giving as a fight or flight response. This allowed my body to still function on very little sleep, food, or energy. I was trying to save my moms life and I was determined to do whatever it took.

I was simply in survival mode.

Being in this mental state of mind, I had no time to process the emotional roller-coaster I had just put myself on. I just did what had to be done. Never giving myself time to fully accept what I was currently witnessing and experiencing right before me. Essentially suppressing all of the emotions that came along with trying to accept the results of the near term future.

When my mom passed, Hospice called me at 2:30am that Wednesday morning. I recall answering the phone, knowing when I saw the phone number she had passed. I can also recall hanging up the phone and immediately jumping out of bed to get my stuff together to hurry up and get to Boston to see her one last time. Immediately going back into that fight or flight. I didn't cry, I didn't even really think about what I was doing, I was just doing.

Moms New Hampshire sweatshirt
that still smells like her.

I quickly called my siblings to see what they would like to do, and in those moments of making phone calls I sat down on my bed. It wasn't until after I had called everyone I soon realized what I just heard on the other end of the phone.

"Hi Samantha, Your mother just passed. She went peacefully and I sat with her the entire time. She was not alone."

The most haunting and beautiful words I have ever heard.

After that moment it hit me, I recalled all of the things as if my brain was playing the last 5 months on replay but in fast forward motion. I sat with it for a moment. I started to cry. Soon after, I pulled it together and slowly made my way down to Boston to be with family and once again throw myself back into that fight or flight response.




I had funeral arrangements to now deal with, picking up clothing, ordering flowers, planning a gathering for friends and family, find something to wear, write her eulogy, there was not much time for me to think about anything but what my mother wanted for her funeral.

Denial. That is what I was doing. I was not acknowledging what just happened, that it was reality, thinking about how am I going to survive this, what is my life going to look like now, what changes and adjustments I would need to make to my own life to actually survive it.

It was about around 3 months since her passing I started to develop high levels of anxiety I had never in my life understood or felt before, panic attacks where I would suddenly burst out into tears and find myself on my kitchen or bathroom floor holding onto something for dear life, not being able to hold my attention to a project for more than just a few minutes without being distracted by my own thoughts, and living in a state of constant fear.

Ricky Bobby & I snuggling in Moms bed when she was sick.

I started to bargain. Always asking in my moments of anxiety how do I fix this? Why couldn't it have been me? I will do anything to bring her back! Please take me, life isn't worth living without her.

And depression following suit. The depression and bargaining, I find goes hand in hand. The state of sadness that I have been experiencing it so intense you can't help but to wish it away, or bargain it away so to speak. It's painful in a way I have never experienced pain.




As time went on, the anxiety got worse, panic attacks become more frequent, and the thoughts consumed my brain, and I had lost all control over my own body. I couldn't shut down at night. The nightmares keeping me awake, the anxiety rising with every trigger, the panic attacks coming on with the slightest rise in stress. As soon as I felt I had lost all control over my body and emotions this is when anger started to kick in.

I suddenly would feel the urge to throw my phone across the room when on social media. Because I would consume all my time looking at posts on those who have lost their moms, cancer, grief, and all the things I thought would help me understand what was happening to me. During panic attacks I would find myself punching things like my pillow, or screaming at the top of my lungs in hatred for what this life has given and taken from me. Being so angry with myself because I have lost ALL control over my own life. But did I really?

Here I am though, still surviving. Simply surviving. Does it suck most days? Certainly. I am doing the work though. I am doing the best to try and be more open, reach out when I need help, take a mental health day if it's needed, I am seeing a therapist once a week through the holidays and until I feel I am OK again. Is any of this easy? No.

But, I do have to believe it will get easier. I do have to remind myself every good mountain climb requires a lot of work to get to the top. You just have to start. I remind myself almost daily that it's OK not to be OK. I also remind myself daily that all it takes is not one day at a time, but one breath at a time. Just need to slow things down, scale them back, and slowly work my way back to the top.

You can't run a marathon if you've never run before right?

Happy Thanksgiving Mom. You're loved and missed unconditionally.💙

I will survive this.