i dont believe my mom is dead

I still talk about mom in the present tense.

My mom loves…

My mom says…

My mom thinks…

I don't believe that she's dead. I know it's true because I saw it happening, but I don't believe it.

Her location is still in my find my friends, I see it every day and I tell myself, "I guess mom's at home" Any reminder that she's not there and I shove it down so I don't have to see it.

My dad keeps getting rid of her things. It's only been 2 months and he keeps telling me he can't live in this clutter and needs to get rid of it all. He floated the idea of getting rid of her fall clothing today and suddenly I was screaming and tears were streaming down my face. I didn't see it coming but somehow I was sobbing.

I go to grief therapy once a week, it's the only time that I'll force myself to acknowledge what is going on. Everyone in there has a dead parent so once a week I do too.

Daytime is easier, I can distract myself enough that the only thing I'll think about is what's directly in front of me. Nights are harder. Every time I try to fall asleep in the silence my brain yells "YOU KNOW YOUR MOM IS DEAD RIGHT" and I try to tell it to shut up. The only way to get some quiet is turning on a mindless podcast or show to try and drown out whatever thoughts I have— sometimes I can't.

I bit the inside of my cheeks every single day since I was probably 11. It was a horrible habit that mom hated but there was nothing I could do about it and everyone assumed it was some sort of underlying anxiety. This month I just stopped doing it. I didn't even notice for about a week then suddenly I realized I just wasn't doing it anymore. Does that mean anything?

I was such a dumb little atheist during all of high school and college but my mom has always been religious. The pastor came the day before she died to pray for her and in general ease whatever discomfort he could. I know it helped her a little hearing about how God was waiting for her but what I remember most is how she still asked God to take the cancer away if that was in his plan. And then one day later she was dead.

The week after her death I was made fully aware by my father that I was going to run out of her health insurance so I booked as many doctors appointments as I could. I had a strange-ish mole that I didn't think much of but Maggie always says just get it removed anyways. The dermatologist upon seeing it said it looked perfectly fine but they biopsy any brought up spots anyways. She called later on to tell me it was melanoma and if found even a couple months later it would have been advanced skin cancer. Instead a quick and relatively painless surgery removed all of it in time. Does that mean anything either?

It's not fair and I'm so angry. I want to stamp my feet on the ground and roll around yelling on the floor. I want my mommy to pick me up and tell me to stop acting like child but she can't and I won't.