Because.

Why did my mum have to die?

Why, indeed.

Why did she try so hard to steer me towards the right path.. when she didn’t even know what the right path was?

Why did she have to die?

I spent so much time away from her. I blamed her for everything. I thought I had the answers. I don’t. Neither did she. But I definitely don’t.

We are the same.

This is what I have learned.

She had the same struggles. I just never wanted to admit it. Life, my family and society told me there was a fix. If I just _____ then I wouldn’t struggle. They were wrong.

Life and society wore me down. And family don’t feel like family anymore. It’s been so long since I replaced them with a string of friendships and relationships that never made the cut either.

I turned 30 and began a spiral of self actualisation. I’m there. Not at the top of the mountain, but high enough that the altitude has changed the air pressure around me.

My mum was the same. Only… At this point in her life, she had me. And a husband. My dad. Who makes me feel like my mum did. Alone. Because I am like her. And he doesn’t like that.

Why did she have to die?

It’s hard when you feel everything. But haven’t the words unless you can write them down.

The tears don’t go away. I’ve been here before.

The right path. What is it? How much further have I gotten because I took the blue pill? I chose to keep battling the rabbit hole and where has it got me?

My mum kept battling it. Now she is dead.

You can tell me all the beef and trimmings you like. All the soft words you’re supposed to say to someone who is grieving a sudden loss of a loved one taken too soon.

I’m not convinced.

My mum died because life was too much for her. But also not enough. Nothing but everything. When your brain is tangled up tight like a knot, there is no escape. You lean emotionally on anyone who cares enough because if you don’t, your mind can’t focus. Only, how do you tell people that? People don’t really care. They care only as far as they get their own needs met. And who needs that?

People mostly don’t understand the intricacies of why they do things. That’s why there are gods. And pills. And societies. And cultures. People need something to fall back on when reason can’t be reasoned with.

So if you’re that person who can see past the intricacies. When nobody else can. How do you manage that? Do you keep on reasoning when nobody else even cares enough to understand?

I used to think my mum was weak. But she wasn’t. She was strong. Because I don’t have children. But if I did, I’d have packed my bags and left. My mum never did. She was always there. Yet I couldn’t be there for her.

Why did my mum have to die?

Because. That’s why.