The complexities of the mother-daughter bond: A personal reflection (Part-2)

I was 16 when my mum passed away.

It was 17th July 2016, A Sunday.

I still remember that day. And the days building up to it.

11th July 2016

My mum started running a high fever with spells of fainting in and out of consciousness. She was on a lot of medical restrictions and fluids and what not because we were preparing her for the liver transplant - her liver was damaged enough for one and her kidneys were badly affected too, water would accumulate in her body like there’s no tomorrow, fluctuating her weight by kilos within a matter of few hours. I wanted to stay back but she and my dad insisted I go to school. When I came back she was doing comparatively better but felt weak - weak enough to take almost 10 minutes to get up and open the door when I got home.

12th July 2016

Again, in the morning, my mum started running a pretty high flaring fever and heavy dizziness. That day I had a double lecture after school and was going to be home after 9:30 pm. After I was done with one of the lectures, I called up my mum. She told me she has high enough fever that she can’t even open her eyes and she doesn’t feel good at all. One of her friends had helped her drink soup. I told her I am leaving immediately but she stopped me and said to come back only after my lectures are done and cut the call. I immediately called my dad and started complaining about this immediately. I asked him to get some boiled eggs and immediately leave for home. While texting him, my eyes teared up and I couldn’t even stop myself despite being in the middle of the class. People around me noticed and tried to check in on me but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak up. After that the only thing I did in my lecture is waste time. I couldn’t study and just kept playing the joker till it was time to leave. My dad got there to pick me up and my first question was about mum. He could sense my impatience but politely replied that I sit and get home to see her and be assured on how she’s doing.

No surprise that those 20 minuets felt like a lifetime.

13th July 2016

My mum got a high fever once again. This time my dad was convinced that the normal medication we use is not working anymore and told me to get ready on my own and gave me money for food. He rushed my mum to the hospital with all her medical records. I got back home just to realise that she has been hospitalised. Because it was my 12th and prep time, my dad had told me to focus there and not here, that she is in the best care she could be in. My mum would also call me and tell me how she is feeling better and that she really likes the food they are giving her in the hospital. I felt assured. I felt hope that she’ll come back - because it was just a fever you know? It was just a fever.

14th July 2016

For some reason I kept getting a bad feeling. I was in a terrible mood all day long and I decided to just go home and cried myself to sleep in as soon as I got home. I remember speaking with Pauras in the evening that day. He was trying to cheer me up as well as tease me about the next day - it was my ex’s birthday on 15th. And also an installation of Ice Age was going to release. Talking to him put my mind at ease and gave me a little hope.

15th July 2016

My day went as normally as it could have. But the major change was in my casual behaviour regarding my class and bunking it out as much as I can. I met Pauras that day and I guess he understood that I am not in a state to be left alone - so he accompanied me till it was evening. I left around 7 and called up my mum. She was not willing to talk much so my dad was the one who picked up the phone and told me she had a little fever today and had to get excessive water drained out of the body. Listening to that I asked him if I should come there right away and he refused and said that he is coming back home.

16th July 2016

I stayed at home the entire day. Things were running all around my head. My unit tests in school was a week away, my mum’s health was not very stable even now and I was in a state of complete chaos. This was the first time I had gotten so scared of the unknown.  I was scared of her not being well. I was texting Pauras I don’t know what is going to happen next. That my mental barriers are breaking and I am spiralling.

He tried his best to console me that I should stay strong for her. That someone who has got back home after such deadly occurrence will not let a spell of fever take her might away. I wish both of us knew that my mum was already very tired. We did get to know about it the next day.

17th July 2016

I had double classes in my coaching that day. After one class, I decided to skip the other one and ran for home because I was scared of organic chemistry as it is and it was the OG sir who was sharp on his tongue - not in a bad way though, only that I couldn’t handle it. Also, it was the day my mum told me in the morning that she will be home soon. My dad sounded happy on the call as well. He was happy because he was talking to the doctor just before talking about discharging mum and about her being on the transplant list. When I got home I immediately called them. My mum was walking around for a little change and so my dad told me he’d tell her to call back. She did call after 20 minutes and talked about coming home. I told her to come back and that we would irritate my dad by cooking chicken, which was our favourite thing to do together. My mum did not say much but agreed and gave the phone to my dad who told me he’d be going to complete the discharge procedures and take care of the expenses now.

Around 04:45 my childhood friend called me and started to ask me if I was okay. My unknown brain was happy to hear from her after years but did not understand her constant worry of  my well being. I had a sudden realisation  - she lived near the hospital where my mum was admitted. I asked her a little sternly if she had something to tell me. She went quiet and said I’ll call in a bit. At this point my suspicions were high and I called my dad asking him where my mum was - he dodged my questions. I told him  to put her on phone and it was after a pause he said that I should come there since my mum’s health worsened and it doesn’t look good. He told me that his friend and wife are coming to get me from home and that I should dress up properly. I agreed and immediately the bell rang. I kept texting Pauras that I don’t feel right I have suspicions that everyone is hiding something about my mum. I was shivering and half way crying in the backseat of their car. I kept telling Pauras that I am scared. That I am very scared.

On getting there and seeing everyone of my mum’s friends waiting - I understood.

I understood my fear was real.

I understood her fever was an indication that her body was failing.

I understood I did a grave mistake by not listening to my gut feeling and meeting her when I felt it.

I understood that my mum was no more with us.

It felt like I was being sucked in a whirlpool and I was trying to hold myself away from it by gripping onto a stranded anchor.

The next few weeks passed by pretty quickly. I kept assuring my close ones I am okay. They kept understanding that my facade was a facade and I am not willing to talk about things just yet.

Things got blurry with this for a long time. I would not really speak about it until next year January, when I messed up one of my mock exam in the school and I couldn’t control my crying self. My friend consoled me but my heart was still blocked enough for me to not keep a note of it. My final exams were the same. As blurry as it could be. My focus was probably more on the fact that my mum wasn’t there to pick me up with my dad the way she would show up the last time. Every time she’d smile at me after my exams, I’d feel relaxed - that is until she’d ask me how terrible my exam went.

Giving exams was tough enough as it is, my seriousness about my life vanished - everything became upside down for me. This meant I couldn’t take a joke but I was not ready to take my career seriously. This was the time I realised that in a way I had started to live for her and not really for myself. I wanted her to have a good peaceful life. My dad has always been someone who could handle himself; who was independent, who would be fine if one day I am suddenly dead. But my mum, I knew my mum needed me. I knew that she relied on me. She always wanted to buy an original Barbie doll - one which I was gifted as a kid - because she never was able to get toys of her own as a kid. That was my motivation. I wanted to work hard and gift her my entire first salary for her to have fun. For her to buy things she wasn’t able to buy because my dad restricted useless spending (money was genuinely tight - the medical bills genuinely sucks up all your money. Plus, Pay commissions were still not enough to boost my dad’s income)

My first year in college was pretty forceful. I did not know what to do very frankly - I just wanted to rest. To sleep. Which I didn’t. I decided to move forward with my college. But convincing myself that right now isn’t the time to feel everything eventually broke me midway. I broke down pretty hard. I broke down enough to make excuses to my dad that I want to try again for entrances and  just annoyed and cried myself for the next 4-5 months.

My gap gave me a little time for reflection and self love though, I grieved her yes, but mostly looked to explore my interests. I developed a discipline of going for a walk and reading books. I also started studying stocks and developed an intense interest in keeping a watch on the market. Not only that, I was successful in grabbing a freelancing opportunity. Also, Kaustubh was back in my life, so there was a lot of stability, comfort and security which I was missing in a way after I and Pauras had parted ways for our sound mind.

Things were fine, almost good, until my grandma got home.

One day while speaking with her and my dad I got to know that my dad had thrown away my mum’s phone. The same phone which she would use to practice texting me, same phone which had her accidental voicemail, same phone which had her last pictures. Same phone I was using as a source of comfort to sleep so many times in a short span of time.

I was beyond shocked. Everytime I tried confronting my dad, he was NOT even a little bit ready to accept his mistakes. I was angry. I felt broken. I screamed, cried and yelled as loud as I could. No effect. Nothing. While crying my eyes out, I called Pauras and told him everything, and he was trying his best to console me when my Grandma entered my room and defended her son in a mindnumbing monologue. That was it. That was the last straw for me and I broke down after that like never before. It was beyond painful and my hatred grew with my anger. How tough was it to admit that your son made a mistake in pure stupidity? Made a mistake that cost me my peace? I wondered that about my grandma. I left for college without eating the next day. I was not ready to forgive.

It was around this time that I cut myself off to feel something and get myself back to reality. And very unsurprisingly, I grew apart from my dad at that very time.

It was like life had decided to play a joke on me, my colleague committed suicide within a month of all this chaos in my life. I won’t lie, I did not know her that well, but her death genuinely hit home. Someone my age passing away, that was sort of impossible to comprehend for a while. Also, it got easier for me to imagine that how I’d end my life. At that time things were painful enough for me to consider cutting my wrists off in my bed, same way she was found.

It was my insanely bad luck that this happened, and within a few months lockdown happened. Lockdown with two people who I had decided to detach from because they made me feel more alone by being present than actually leaving me alone. Not only that, my grandma took it a step further and started talking off about how it was for the best that my mum passed away, how she was a bed ridden bug who dried out my dad’s life and how I am and will be no different than her. Blaming it on lockdown? not really. But yeah, you could feel that all this is coming out of frustration of being stuck with a kid you detest the most.

Cutting myself became a recurrent theme, and I retrieved in my room slowly. I spoke even less with either of them and when I did it was mostly during boiling anger. It was around this time I understood my mum’s POV. I could not and do not justify many things she did, but I understood her irritation which came with being mentally ill, living in an environment where even your breathing was criticised. You will end up being angry at everything and irritated even by small comments. You will hate yourself and your decisions which are now permanent in time. You will feel empty and like a sharp stake is piercing you off slowly all at the same time.

My rebellious mode started. So did my guilt. I’d fight with my dad every single time we’d talk, even for the smallest of things. I loved my dad - I knew that. But it was tough to forgive him. I’d not even respond to my grandma. Its easier to forgive a child, but adults committing mistakes which can scar you forever? no.

I was at the same path as my mum - the dead mattered to me more than the ones who were living. I think its suffice to say that this life of mine needed to be burned out of me or else I’d burn down too with the rage. I was close to it though, I would casually cut myself sometimes, sometimes i’d try to burn my wrist, sometimes I’d just try to drown my head in the large bucket. Things got so bad that I finally opened up to Pauras about all of it - and it rescued me slowly from where I was going.