It’s been a while since I’ve written.

It’s only a day after Christmas and I feel the holiday crash. No energy. Lack of drive. Just existing. I just want to be in bed and hide from the world. I don’t want to think. I just want to be.

Maybe I’m losing my mind, but I swear I saw my Mom in someone else’s eyes today. I was watching a clip of Maya Angelou speaking of love. Love liberates. I looked deep into her almost black eyes on the TV screen. It was as if Mom was looking into my eyes, through Maya Angelou’s eyes while she herself was speaking of her Mother’s death. She had told her Mother that she could go, she could die now because she has her love. And she loves her Mother. She drew me into her heartfelt poetic words. She so reminds me of Mom. I am missing Mom today and for Maya Angelou to pop up on screen with a close up on her face, staring at me with her deep dark brown eyes. Eyes of mom. I felt a comfort. I can not explain it. I wish I could. I should not take that feeling for granted, given how crappy I feel.

Oh if only she were still alive, Mom that is. What would she tell me? I’m not sure. She’s never seen me in this sort of depression when she was living. Not the debilitating depression. She had been like this before. I had always thought she was just not feeling well, physically.

Now I understand. I understand wanting to hide in your bedroom. I understand not wanting to socialize. I understand not wanting to take care of yourself. I understand the unhealthy little joys such as smoking a cigarette and eating crap for dinner. I get it now.

I know that she would be supportive. Non-judgmental. She would offer to come over just to be. Just to be with me. To let us both just…be. Hugs and kisses going. Tears flowing. Sharing thoughts and feelings if need be. She would just be. And be with me.

A love between a child and Mother is usually a strong one. Mom and I had a special sort of relationship. We would take turns taking care of each other. She tried to right up to her death. That must be what I am missing when I crash. No one is able to love me the way Mom could, and just be.