My sweet, loving mother died on February 17th after a 2 year battle with stage 4 breast cancer. Up until the last few months, treatments had been working (relatively speaking), and even though her life was different, she was okay.

Until it stormed through the gates and planted roots on her liver. From there, it was swift and all consuming. Mid-January, her oncologist told her that treatments were no longer working, and she should start looking into palliative care. I didn't know this at the time, but my dad recently told me that her doctor expected she had 2-6 months left. She was gone in one.

I went home on February 16th to spend some time with her. She had gone from pretty sick, to oxygen 100% of the time, couldn't move without a wheelchair, and doped up on morphine. We knew it was bad, but didn't think it would happen so quick. That first night that I came home was tortuous. I couldn't believe I was seeing my mom that way- the second I looked at her, I knew that I was looking at a dying person. After an incredibly difficult night, my dad and I tucked her in, I gave her a kiss, told her I loved her, and that I would paint her toenails for her the next day.

10am, my sister (who lives with my parents) texted and asked if I had checked on mom. I went in to her room, and in my core, I knew that she was gone. On the surface, my brain couldn't piece it together. She was sleeping, Had to be sleeping. There was no way that my mom was actually dead. It couldn't happen that fast. 

But it did. And this has been the strangest month. Nothing about this grieving process is what I thought it would be. I'm distracted, and some days I'm even happy and full of joy in life. Some days I barely think about it. Some days I think about it all the time and I can't think of anything else. I thought that I would be confined to my bed for weeks. Instead, I get up, (try) to go to work, go on hikes, party with friends, do yoga. I feel accepting and okay. Sometimes, I absolutely lose my *** and panic and cry and don't want to talk to or be around anyone at all. 

I think I'm realizing that it's not just a quick process that you go through, accept, and it's over. She's gone. Actually gone. Forever. And I don't know what to do with myself. I can't believe that what I feared for so long is actually over. 26 years old and my mother isn't here anymore- never will be. 

I don't know how I'm supposed to be feeling or acting. I should be talking to my family and being there for them. I don't want to. I don't want to talk about it or think about it or deal with it. I just want to be fine. But it's not. I don't know.