Life took my mother, then it took my desire to be.

Hi everyone. Call me Drell.

This year has proven to be nothing short of detrimental for me. I’m not a person who likes to ask for help. I never have been. But right now, I don’t have a choice. I should have asked long ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so. But sometimes life will have us do things we don’t particularly want to. My mother always told me that if you don’t ask for help, people won’t know that you need it. Well, here I am. Asking.

On June 3, 2023, I lost my mother. She had been battling symptoms from diabetes and dementia for almost a year. She had her first stroke around September 2022. After some rehab she could still talk and was still pretty mobile. In late October 2022 she had another stroke. She wasn’t as mobile but her speech improved tremendously. I was told it happens like that sometimes. And then one day, I noticed that it seemed like she was having trouble breathing. I asked her if she was okay and she said yes. I asked her if she wanted me to call for an ambulance and she said no. But I knew something was wrong. I called and she was taken to the hospital. She was diagnosed with blood clots in her lungs. She was in the hospital in Alabama for a few weeks and then she was sent to a nursing home here in North Florida. Once she reached that nursing home, I started losing my mother. Even though they did rehab with her daily, every day pieces of her slowly slipped away. Eventually she couldn’t eat, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak. She required around the clock care. I have always been a momma’s girl, and seeing my mother … a woman who loved to garden, to cook, and to travel, be able to do nothing but sleep and stare at television, began this journey of what has essentially broken me. The one thing I’m grateful for is that she always remembered who I was. She knew me. And would even sometimes give me that “Girl get out of here!” look that only mothers can give. And then one night, I got a call that she was being sent to the ER because she was having some loose stools. When I got to the hospital, she was on a ventilator, and I was being told that it was the end. And it was. And on the morning of June 3, 2023, I had to say goodbye to my best friend. And that’s the day life said “Oh you think this is bad? Just you wait!”

I had to take off from work frequently when it came to my mother. If the nursing home called, I tried my best to be there. At the time, with the job I was working, I had no sick leave, no vacation time, no nothing. The position I worked didn’t have any benefits of any kind. My supervisor at the time would commend me on how well I was handling things with my mother and work. If I missed time, I ALWAYS made it up, because I needed the money.

When my mother passed, I let my supervisor know and that I needed to take some time off. My mother passed on a Saturday. TWO DAYS after my mother passed, that Monday, I received a call stating that I was being let go from my position. The reason I was given … that my supervisor said I was very “distant” and didn’t engage much. The same person who was constantly telling me how well I was doing with everything I had in my plate stabbed me in the back.

During the time my mother was sick I realized that she had allowed her life insurance to lapse. I was able to get her a policy, but it wasn’t much …. $6,000. Her funeral costs exceeded $8,000 and that was me doing the bare minimum. In my mind, I was working, so I would be able to take care of it. After losing my employment, I couldn’t. I could barely take care of me.

Unemployment was $275 every two weeks, and the state of Florida withheld the first check. I was already behind on the mortgage because the nursing home had started getting my mother’s retirement and social security, and I was trying to maintain a mortgage, my mother’s bills, my bills, etc. on $275 every two weeks. It was impossible.

I applied for jobs almost every day of every week. I just couldn’t seem to get a call back. And everything was falling behind finance wise. I asked for help from some people in my community, and you wouldn’t believe how times I was turned away. The same people who told me “If you need ANYTHING!” after my mom passed, basically told me to kick rocks, with the exception of a few. I was literally eating ramen every day, once a day, because I couldn’t afford food. It wouldn’t be until September that I had 3 job offers on the table and I accepted one. But by this point, the damage was done. My credit score was shot. Everything was behind, and I was at risk of losing my mother’s home …. the home she worked so hard to get. She spent a big chunk of her retirement on that home.

There were more deaths to follow. My mother’s oldest (and closest) sister lost her only child, her daughter, at the end of October. Then one of my younger cousins passed away from Muscular Dystrophy.

And then we reach today. Well, technically yesterday at this point. I was getting ready to make some dinner in the oven. I had a couple of bags of trash that I was going to take out a little too close to the oven in the kitchen. A piece of paper towel fell down in the bottom of the oven and caught on fire. Instead of just letting it burn, I saw fire and my instinct was to snatch the paper towel from the oven. When I did, embers flew, and hit the other bags of trash, and before I knew it, my home …. my mother’s home, was on fire.

I haven’t been able to assess the damage, but I was told by the fire team that the kitchen was a total loss. And that brings us here. To today. With me writing this at 3:40 AM. I’m tired. So tired. I haven’t had a vacation or a break in years. When I was unemployed that was far from a break. All I wanted to do was sleep, because when I was awake all I did was worry. Where would my next meal come from? How could I save the house? And now, the house has burned. And I’m numb. Numb to it all. But I’m damaged. Scarred. These past six months have completely changed who I am. I don’t want to go anywhere. Do anything. And I just want to be alone. All. The. Time. And with this fire, I’m completely broken. I don’t know who I am anymore. I feel like I want to jump off a bridge almost every day. Or like locking myself in a closet and never coming out. I feel like if trauma and tragedy is all life has for me, then why bother living? Save for some wonderful people I met on social media who make my weekdays and weekends more bearable, I feel unimportant. Invisible. Worthless. Useless. I feel like God has left me and that I’m completely alone. And therefore, I isolate myself. From living. From experiencing. From feeling. Every day I wake up I say “Well, another day to just exist.” Because that’s what it feels like … like I’m just here to work, suffer, and one day, die. I have no joy. I know no peace. And that’s not your problem, but I felt I should express that. Because I carry it every day.

But why are you here? Well, because since it has been people I don’t know who have treated me the best, I figured I would try again. I don’t know how much it’s going to cost to repair my home, even if it can be repaired. So I’m just preparing for the inevitable. This job that I have, we’re technically not allowed to take off for 90 days, however my supervisor is working with me. But let’s face it, we know how that worked out in the past. I just need some help financially to get things back on track and to pay off the funeral expenses as well as to have a backup plan in case I have to pay for anything regarding the house. I’m tired. Just so tired. Of worrying. Even of being. But if I have to be … if I have to exist, I’d rather do it with help and not on my own. I’m finding that alone doesn’t work very well.

I do apologize for the long rant. But that’s the story. Anything you can donate is appreciated. Heck just you stopping by is appreciated. I’m going to go try to rest. I have a long next few months ahead of me I’m sure. Thank you for reading this long novel, lol. I can see why people say writing is cathartic; it really is. Again any help is appreciated and greatly welcomed.