Growing up, my mom was my only parent. By saying “only”, I don’t mean she was any less than 2 parents. She was (and still is) amazing. She has always been an inspiration to me, and she instilled so many wonderful qualities in me. She taught me to be a strong, independent, caring, and positive thinking person. I have struggled with depression since my teen years, and she always pushed me into positive thinking to help my depression. She drilled positive thinking into me, to the point that I can barely stand negativity in my life. I have a lot of characteristics to be proud of, and it’s because of my mom.
Lately, since Payton passed, I can rarely find that positive thinking I was once so good at. If someone told me to “think positive” right now, I’d probably either vomit or sucker punch them. I know the positivity that exists in my life, and I do not take them for granted. But at the same time the overwhelming pain of grieving my child fogs the positivity.
I feel so far away from my baby. I want nothing more than to see him, hold him in my arms, kiss his cute little face, and have a conversation with him. I do not doubt that I will learn to live this way. I will still hurt, I will still miss Payton every single day, but I know I will learn to live in pain.
Sometimes I feel like I’ve let my mom down. She spent so many years guiding me to become the person I was before Payton passed away. I was someone I could be proud of, she could be proud of. Now I feel I’m broken, wasted, and I will never be that person again. But that positivity is still instilled in who I am, it’s one of the reasons I am still here. It may be harder to find at times, or it may be in much smaller moments in my days, but it’s there.