Fair warning, I'm not sure how long this post will be.. This is the first time I've ever been completely on my own. Most of my life, I lived with my mom. After I found out I was pregnant in 2016, January of 2017 I moved back in with her and had my daughter in May. My daughter's father also moved in with us for several months, but abruptly moved out and we haven't heard from him since. (She'll be 4 in May) After I had my daughter, I suffered from pretty severe postpartum depression that went untreated for a while. Mom took care of nearly everything I couldn't, when it came to caring for my daughter. I didn't realize just how depressed I was, because I constantly did things to occupy myself. Played online games, communicated with friends and other family, over ate nearly everything and still do, etc. In 2019, my Grandfather got very sick and was in ICU. We ended up traveling down to where he lived on Long Island and shortly after that, he passed away. We stayed in his house for nearly a year until it sold and moved back upstate, December of 2019. Come spring/summer of 2020 and mom started feeling absolutely horrible. No one knew what was going on.. It finally got so bad that she ended up in the hospital on more than one occasion. While there being checked for various things, they discovered something on her lung. A referral was made so it could be checked, but before that could even happen, she was in Albany medical in August and passed by September. I was the one who received the call at 5:17 a.m. about her passing. My brother, sister in law and I at least saw her the day before, even though she wasn't alert. We talked to her, showed her pictures of the kids (I have a niece and nephew who are 7 and 8) and told her how much we loved her. To make this a little shorter, I wasn't as affected by it as I thought I'd be, at first. By December though, I couldn't get off my couch. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I couldn't drink anything.. All I did was smoke cigarettes every few minutes and lay back down after. I was neglecting my daughter even more than when my mom was still here. I was severely dehydrated from not eating/drinking and was having dizzy spells. They felt like seizures. I reached out to my brother who lives next door to us and I had an ambulance bring me to the hospital. I was also hallucinating, thinking I was seeing ghosts and hearing voices, while I was attempting to sleep at night. I thought I was losing my mind, honestly. They found nothing serious wrong with me, but treated my dehydration. The doctor asked me if I thought I was depressed and I said yes. I let myself get so bad, there was almost no coming back from it. I'm in a slightly better place now, but am still having trouble moving on. I relied on my mom for EVERYTHING. She was my best friend. My depression is slightly under better control, but my anxiety is fierce. I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, recently.. But prior to that, was always told it was generalized anxiety. It honestly took my mom passing away, to try and be a better person. A better mother to my daughter. A better sister, since my brother is allowing us to live here without paying rent right now. (he owns this house and the one he lives in, next to us) It just doesn't feel real, still. The crying has subsided a bit, but I still find myself questioning nearly everything and anything. I don't know how to do this. One step at a time, I know. One day at a time. Everyone, including my brother and father, think I should be better by now. It's nearly 8 months since she's passed. I still can't seem to cope, though. I feel completely lost without her. I feel as if I'll never get better and never move on, from this. Everyone has a different story. A different circumstance. A different way of handling their grief. I'm currently in therapy and trying to get other health issues in order. Between my mom passing, potty training my daughter, enrolling her in Pre-K, constant doctors visits/telehealth, watching my niece and nephew because they're being homeschooled, taking care of my daughter, packing up mom's things because she has far too much of nearly everything and figuring out how I'm going to support my daughter and myself, while getting all the other stuff in order.. I'm overwhelmed. Constantly. Anyway, that's the gist of it all. I have a lot more to say, but don't want to keep writing and writing, because I'll never stop. If you read any of this, thank you.