CHRYSALIS

41.

tw: death, talk of suicide, grief
important a/n at the end!
play the song after the journal entry.
double update, read 40 first.

July 29th, 2021.

I'm back here again. We're going to get this over with.

The universe is a real fucking bitch, yanno? I was doing good. Life was good. I was happy. I was excited for the future.

Every future. I was excited for my career, I was excited for myself, for the possibility of a love life, all of it. I finally felt like I was really getting somewhere, and then the universe just fucking side-swiped me.

I'm still pretty pissed about it. I mean, things worked out okay, but did it really have to give me such a shitty hand?

Listen, this is my journal and I will be a selfish bitch if I want to. I'm allowed to throw myself a pity party here, I'm allowed to make it about me.

It was really fucking inconvenient for me.

I was really unprepared to deal with the emotional tidal wave that entered my life with that phone call. It was like a hurricane, just destroying everything in its path and then having a moment of calm in the eye of the storm, and then wrecking my shit up again.

It's fucking exhausting, I'd just like to be able to feel real emotions again on a SANE level, why is that too much to ask?

Oh right, it's because I am my mother's daughter.

That's not funny.

Fuck, I hate this. I hate this so bad.

It wasn't fair.

-Jo.

"I'm so sorry to inform you that your mother has passed..."

Passed. Like she slipped away in her sleep. Like she died of old age. Like she just didn't wake up.

My mother didn't "pass."

My mother killed herself.

She'd been trying to for years, and she finally did it.

When I got the call I quietly excused myself from lunch and walked to the train station silently. I rode home without a tear. I made it upstairs and into the apartment, checked to see if Dante was home, and then collapsed to the floor.

I dug my fingernails into the skin of my thighs and I wailed, unable to stop myself. The emotions I was feeling caused thoughts to rapid-fire through my brain in a painful attack.

She died hating me

I left her there all alone

I didn't call her enough, I never went to see her, it's my fault she's gone

How dare she fucking do this to me

She finally got what she wanted

She could have been at peace a long time ago if it wasn't for me.

Does she feel better now?

What if that's me in 20 years?

I would make this about me, Jesus Christ I'm such a selfish bitch.