Dear Friend,
I empathize with you so much. Although it has been 12 years since I lost my mom, I know the feelings that are swirling inside you. Nothing made me feel better. In fact, all the people saying, "Time will heal you," almost made me angry. However, they were right. I am now at the point where I can say that I have integrated her death into my life. She, like your mom, was much too young. And you, at 19, oh my goodness, you need your mom.
Would books be helpful to you? If so, I recommend two, especially. One is by C.S. Lewis, and is titled "A Grief Observed." It is about his reactions to his wife Joy's cancer death. The other is "Motherless Daughters," but I am sorry not to be able to remember the author's name.
These were both helpful to me in that from the very first page of "A Grief Observed," I could say yes, yes, that's me too. And "Motherless Daughters" is so good because it describes women of all ages who have lost their mothers, and the resultant effect it has had on them.
Is depression a problem? If so, seek help. I found counseling immensely helpful at this point, and it gave me a way to really let out the strong feelings I was having.
Do you have siblings? Can you lean on them?
Let friends do things for you so the stress of daily chores is lifted somewhat. My dear friend Julie did one of the nicest things for me. She called one day, said, "I'm coming over," and when she got here she made tea for both of us. We then sat down in the living room and she said, simply, "Tell me about your mom." Now, Julie had known my mom, but what she did was allow me to just talk about her. My mom and I were especially close. In the next two and a half hours we cried, we laughed, I talked a LOT, and Julie pretty much listened. I have thanked her over and over for that gift. It was just what I needed. Do you have a good friend who would be willing to sit with you and do something similar?
I also found myself doing odd things that I had never done before. For example, I am not, and was not then, a scrapbooker. But I made a scrapbook of pictures of my mom, cards I had received, old checks from her checkbook, grocery lists she had made, her last driver's license, sweet notes she had sent me, and the like. I also bought 25 pounds of clay, and while I am in NO way an artist, I found that mucking around in clay was really a very good way to help me process my feelings. Clay doesn't care if it's being pounded. I would be making something and my tears would be falling upon the clay. I made something I called the "Panel of Pain." It was 14 faces, each in some state of anger, confusion, sadness, pain of some sort. I always liked that. It was rough, not artistic, but it really served my needs at the time. Eventually it cracked, and I always considered that it broke up, just like my grief eventually did.
I have epilepsy, and stress is a trigger for seizures, so I had to work really hard at staying as level emotionally as I could. Was this hard! But I managed. My husband was very supportive. My mom had many, many friends, and they all surrounded me in ways that were really heartwarming.
Don't be afraid if you find yourself angry. I'm sure you know that that's a normal reaction. You might also want to read Elisabeth Kubler-Ross on the stages of grieving. In addition to anger, you might feel in denial, and lots of other feelings. They are all normal. It might feel absolutely abnormal for you, but remember, it's not a normal situation.
I would suggest that you ASK FOR WHAT YOU NEED. This might be in terms of an adjustment in your work or school schedule, extra cuddling from a boyfriend, being allowed to sleep more than usual, talk more or less than usual, eat more or less than usual, anything.
Something I did, which started a month almost to the day after my mom died, is to write. I love to write, and the words started pouring out. She died on June 7, and on July 10 the first words tumbled out. I could hardly write fast enough. Maybe you journal. It might be an interesting journal to read a year or two years from now if you start putting down your thoughts every day or even several times a day. It could be a record of your journey through grief. And a journey it is, with good days, tough days, the whole range of emotions, and few straight paths. I can only tell you, having been through it, that there is light at the end of the tunnel.
If you are interested, I would be glad to share some of the poems I wrote about my mom's illness, death, and my grief.
It sounds as if you and your mom had a great relationship. You are missing her terribly because of that.
I hope some little piece of this helps you. I would be happy to correspond with you privately if you like. If so, we would have to figure out a way to give each other our email address, as I think this site does not print them.
Take an hour at a time. Don't expect too much of yourself. You have been stabbed. Your heart is bleeding. Let others tend to you. Treat yourself with tender loving care. Try to keep in mind what your mom would say to you now.
I care.
Maggie