I can't sleep!

Losing my mother has been an utter nightmare. Every night as I lay down to sleep, I cry, because I don't know where she is or how she is and that terrifies me. My faith is being challenged and I'm failing the challenge miserably.

I feel like this doll.

I feel like it's me against the world today. My plans got canceled, which seems to be a recurring theme in my life. Not that I blame Kim, because I know it was 100% not her fault. However, this is all too routine for me.

I know that I put on a good front. Congratulations to everybody whom I have fooled; you're gullible. Anyone who really knows me must know that I'm a complete pretender right now.

My mother is dead, and in no way am I okay with that. Not even remotely. Why is it that every movie I watch involves death as a main theme?

I have absolutely positively no idea what I want to do with my life right now. Every time I think about it, I think, "I don't WANT a life! I don't want to work, I don't want to live on my own, I don't want to make or spend money."

That leaves me in quite the predicament, doesn't it? I'm not ready to go back to school. Not yet.

Nick Torres is my hero.

This post is simply to declare that Nick Torres, singer and vocalist of Cassino, and formerly of Northstar, is my idol. I am completely and utterly in awe of him.

I got to see Cassino last night, and of course I was blown away. Nick has been one of my favorite songwriters ever since I began really listening to Northstar. Seeing him standing literally a foot in front of me, looking up at him singing... it was amazing.

I tried to talk to him after the show but I was shaking so bad and so nervous that I could hardly say a word. I got to speak to him, though, and that pretty much made my entire life. I also kept the guitar pick he dropped, not to be all teenybopper, but it is just tangible evidence of a great night.





Nick Torres. That's all.

Worst feeling:

Worst feeling: When you've liked somebody for a long time, but you've kept quiet about it because you know they don't like you. And you get to be there to witness them start to like somebody else, and hear them talk all about that other person, and get excited when that person comes over (while you're in the room, of course).

And all of his friends are so happy and excited for him, and then you're involved in a plot to clear the room of everybody except for him and the girl. Even though you are wishing you are that girl. Worst. Feeling. Ever.

This is surreal.

What to say? The past few days of my life have been surreal.

I found out at 11:57 on Sunday night that my mother died just a few hours earlier. It was a complete shock. We all knew she had cancer, yes, and we all knew she was dying. But she didn't really die from the cancer itself, she died from a blood clot in her lungs, which was caused by immobility, which was caused by fatigue, which was caused by chemotherapy, which was caused by the cancer.

I took some NyQuil and basically just coexisted with the universe until 3:00 Tuesday morning when I left to fly home. I got home in the morning and spent the day out and about trying not to go back home. I went to three different malls in just a few hours!

The wake was the next evening and it was an emotional rollercoaster. There was a lot of crying but there was also a lot of not crying. You see, I'm a damn good pretender, and I can hide my sorrow quite well sometimes. People told me I was strong and that I did well.

This morning was the funeral. It was the complete worst day of my life. I've got a few that rank up there, including yesterday, the day I found out she died, and the day I found out she had cancer. We went to the funeral home and I was fine until my dad started crying; dammit, he's supposed to be the strong one, and when he is sobbing, it sets me off. Then my best friend had to basically leave the room because she was so upset. That made me get worse. At the end of the funeral home part of the funeral, everyone left and I made sure to be last to say goodbye. I just kind of stood over her for a few moments and then I touched her icy cold arm and kissed her forehead. My poor mommy, she was so cold and her skin was all flaky.

We went to the cemetary and that was just horrible. Seeing that box knowing my mother was inside was the worst feeling in the entire world. I was instructed to stand next to the priest while he gave his mini-spiel (I really don't know the official name of what he did). We picked flowers out of her crapload of bouquets and baskets and vases to put on top of her casket. Everyone else seemed to be choosing roses and such, while I chose a lily. Is that inappropriate? She loved lilies, and there was one that caught my eye as being particularly beautiful, so I chose that one.

We drove away then, back to my house, and it was definitely an "I'm never going to see her again in my entire life," moment. Suck. Then I pretended to socialize while horrible thoughts tormented my brain, and then I somehow managed to waste away until 2:32 am: now.

Here's my problem: I can't sleep. It's not that I'm not tired. No, that is most certainly not the case. I have been tired all day. It's just that I'm so terrified of the thoughts that I know will inevitably cross my mind as I try unsuccessfully to sleep. I want to sleep so badly but I feel like I'm being tormented somehow. I know I will have these awful thoughts which will scare me into turning the lights back on anyways.

...I'm going to try to read Harry Potter until I'm too tired to bother thinking.