Five Years

December 21st, 2017


Dear Momma,

It's been five years today. Five years since dad and I walked into your bedroom to find you on the floor, gone. Five years of ... well, a lot of things. I thought I would write you.

And it's funny, I had been thinking of writing you all day while I was at work, but now that I'm actually sitting on the floor, MacBook on my knees, I'm...I'm not sure what to write. In Christianity, we're taught that God can see your thoughts. At times, I've thought that you can see mine, but that's foolish. You aren't god. So if you are any place that can see or hear me, I have to talk to you. Or, I have to write.

I miss you. That goes without saying. I miss you a ton. You were the one constant in my life, and to have that ripped away without being able to say a proper goodbye - I'll never get over that. I'll never forgive whatever deity chose for that to happen. You'd probably be sad that I've lost my faith, but I have trouble reconciling a loving god with the fact that I didn't get to say goodbye to you. That was needlessly cruel. I think you'd understand though, that part anyways. I may forget a lot of things in life, memories and what not, but the memory of dad waking me up that Friday morning, telling me he was having trouble waking you up, me not thinking this was anything unusual about that, until he said that your lips were "blue" - me literally jumping out of bed to go into the bedroom (yours only a step away from mine from door to door) to see you laying there on your back (he had rolled you from your side onto your back), lips slightly parted, lips blueish, not moving nor breathing... the memory of me yelling at dad to call 911, knowing, KNOWING, what the truth was, but telling him to call while I applied clumsy CPR, him telling me what the operator was saying, me giving up, getting dressed in case I needed to go to the hospital with the EMTs (but knowing... KNOWING), telling Rusty, promising Rusty I would take care of him (because I KNEW).. the memory of hearing the ambulance siren slow to a stop as they came to rest outside of the house, opening the door, calling for them to hurry "please" (still KNOWING), waiting with dad in the kitchen until he mentioned I should go in there to answer any questions about her medical history, her medications, what have you, walking down the hall with him behind me, seeing them clustered around you, one of them kneeling by your side, all of them looking at us... the memory of one of them telling us that you were "gone"... the memory of dad wailing "Oh no" so quietly so heartbreakingly and me turning away as he hugged me to him and I screamed into his chest...

Those memories. The ones of telling Shannon, waiting for her, seeing her reaction, waiting for the coroner to arrive, seeing dad stretched out beside you, arm across your chest...

Those memories. The ones of the day of the funeral, the snow stopping after laying an inch or two across the ground, of delivering the eulogy (I'm sure you heard how dad and Shannon were worried I wouldn't be able to do it - I had to do it), of helping the paul bearers carry your casket to the hearse, being told by the funeral director to stay in the car due to concerns about slipping in the snow, watching as strangers carried your casket to the grave site and turning off the car, getting out and walking to the grave site, being followed by everyone else, the funeral director trying to stop me and me point blank telling him that I didn't care if I slipped and fell, I wouldn't sue but i was going to be there to say goodbye for the last time...

You know why, right? Why I had to do that? Why I had to watch as your coffin slipped slowly down into the hole, watching until it was at the bottom and they were pulling the ropes back up..you know why I had to be pulled away as it started to snow, lightly, once again?

You know. You know, knew, whatever - that I was always there to take care of you. Just as I was once your responsibility, you became mine, and I had to see it through. Until the end. I always knew I would help carry your casket. I always knew I would give the eulogy. I always knew I would wait until your casket hit the bottom of the earth. I always knew I would be the last one to leave the grave site.

Because I love you. That's what love does. That's what love is. Commitment. Trust. Devotion. Fidelis ad mortem. Loyal to the death. So I was.

The trouble is...now what do I do? You were my cornerstone. Without that, the house has become unsteady. It hasn't fallen. But I don't know what to replace it with. If I can. If I'm supposed to.

Wrestling, as you've seen (if you can see me - can you? Can you hear me? Sometimes I hope so. Sometimes...), as helped fill the void somewhat. It's given me a hobby. Friends. Places to go. Even another boyfriend. But lately I don't know if that's the right decision. No, if anything, dad has filled the void and now he's the majority of the reason for my life.

It took me a few minutes to type that. Because, after what happened to you, I don't know if having a person be the reason for my life is the right thing anymore. Is that bad? Are all my experiences going to be colored by what happened to you from now on? You probably wouldn't want that. Scratch that, you're probably not thrilled by the majority of the decisions I've made with my life up to this point. Scratch that, I know you aren't.

There are so many times I've wished I could ask you about things. Get your advice. See how you felt or how you would have done things. Even things that years ago I couldn't have imagined asking you about, I would give a lot to. There are some you may not have had answers for. But I still would have asked. Then again, given how things may have gone if you were still here, there are things I wouldn't have asked you about. I am truly confident that my life would be radically different if you were still here.

Shoulda, coulda, woulda. Hindsight is 20/20. All those empty cliches.

Right now I kinda want to throw the MacBook at the wall. Because I'm angry. You'd probably hate the fact I get so angry about a variety of things these days. I used to be more optimistic. Now? On my good days, yeah.

Now I'm just rambling. I remember months after you passed (funny thing I can't use the D word, even now. Stupid. Just write it.) months after you died, I had a dream. Part of it involved Colt Cabana, but at the end, I was running towards you and you smiled at me and told me that you loved me and you were proud of me.

Are you? I know you love/d me. But are you proud of me?

You'd probably hate the way wrestling has consumed my life. You'd be worried about the fact I've gained so much weight. You'd stress about the fact I was fired from two jobs (although I think you'd be okay with the current job I have now, given I'm making more money than I ever have). You'd wonder about my relationship. You would absolutely hate how much money I have spent.

About that - I'm sorry I gave $1,000 to a known scumbag when I had people that I was just starting to know but were clearly looking out for me telling me not to do it. I'm sorry I gave him $1,000 out of the money that you had saved and dad told me to keep. I've always wondered if I should have kept that or transferred it back into his savings. I think dad was amazed at the fact you not only built your own savings but you squirreled your money into my savings and even was saving cash in my room. You always told me it was because you thought he would spend it. Well, you were right about that. He's spent a lot of cash over the past five years on four guys he believes are his grand kids but I think he's finally wising up. I'm doing my best on that part but it's sorta like the pot calling the kettle black.

I'm doing with dad what I did with you. Before work every morning, I turn on the hall light or my light, open the bedroom door and look in on him. I wait, not breathing, until I see the covers moving up and down or I hear him exhale.

I am terrified every day to find him like he found you. I don't know if I can take that. I don't know how he takes the fact he's the one who found you gone before waking me up. He said he didn't realize you were dead (that stung to type) until EMS said as much. But I wonder about that. You know I've never asked him if he knew you were gone. I guess I just can't take knowing that. Maybe it's better for me to believe he truly wasn't sure.

Do you know what haunted me for days, weeks, even months after you were gone? Wondering if I had told you that I loved you before going to bed. I remember being sick most of that week, having stayed home Wednesday, Thursday and planning on calling in Friday as well. I remember telling you goodnight that last night. I'm reasonably sure that I told you I loved you then. It's something we all started doing after Nannie passed, ending every conversation with "I love you", telling each other "I love you" before going out the door, assuring each other that "I love you" before going to bed. No, it's the second time that haunts me.

I remember waking up around 2:30 or 3 am. You'd had foot and eye surgery all within the past 5 weeks and had an infection diagnosed on Thursday by the foot doctor. He told you if you didn't stay off of it and take the antibiotic he prescribed, you'd spend Christmas in the hospital. You were worried about that. (God the absolute irony..) But, I woke up from a noise. You were getting back to bed from going to the bathroom, the one that was connected to your bedroom. I helped you back into the bed and...I hate myself for this, but I remember being annoyed that I couldn't get a good night's sleep without being woken up by something. I remember smiling at you though, telling you to get some sleep. And...I think I told you that I loved you.

Months after you were gone, I had to convince myself that I had uttered that simple phrase in order to not feel overwhelming guilt. I couldn't handle the idea that not only had I been annoyed with you but that I had also forgotten or neglected to tell you that I loved you before going back to sleep.

That was 3:30am. Dad woke me up at 8:25am. Something between those hours happened to take you and I still wonder how you wound up on the floor. Were you trying to get to me, knowing I was only steps away? Were you trying to go to the bathroom again when you had a heart attack? Dad said you were curled up facing the bed. Did you fall or slide out and just decide not to try to get back in or did you not have a chance to even try?

Was it peaceful? Did it hurt? What was the last thing you saw or said or thought before you were gone? Did you think of me? Did you think of Dad? Did you think of Rusty or Shannon or Kathy or...?

Sorry. I thought I would make it through this without crying but you probably knew that was impossible.

But I want to know so badly. What happened that night? What happened?? If you could come back to tell me, just for five minutes, I would give anything to know. Should I have objected more strongly to you having an eye surgery then two weeks later the foot surgery? I didn't like how close together they were. I didn't. And it was either during the eye or the foot surgery that you had a small stroke. They had trouble getting you awake from the anesthesia. Was that a sign? The autopsy said you had had a heart attack but I have trouble believing this. You just saw the cardiologist in September, she did an EKG and it was fine. So what the fuck happened?

Sorry, I've started cussing more and you probably wouldn't like that either.

I've seen death in the movies in all sorts of ways. We all watched Nannie and Grandma Dorothy slowly fade away from the cancer. I still think it's irony that you passed ten years after Nannie did. I would like to think that you're with her and PawPaw and all our pets, and Grandma Dorothy, and dad's brothers..

But I don't think it's fair. It isn't fair that I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't get time to prepare and I think I should have gotten that. After everything I had done, some deity out there knew how much I loved and depended on you and how much you loved and depended on me and screw them for not giving me one thing I deserved.

A 35 year old woman is throwing a tantrum in the letter she's writing you. It just isn't fair though.

Now, five years later, I realize just how angry I still am over that and how much I still wish I had answers. I remember working with Patty, the woman in medical records in my second job, who never got over her mother dying. I know you wouldn't want me to stay stuck. I think I've done a decent job of not being stuck. Although I don't know if you'd approve of the choices I've made.

But..I do think you'd approve of how close dad and I are. I'm doing my best to take care of him like I took care of you, but he makes it difficult sometimes. He hates how he can't do what he used to. I hate it too. I hate that the strong man who used to let me ride him around the house when I was a little girl can't remember what he did an hour ago. His memory is worse than yours was now. And he's so irritable now. I know he's angry at himself and he's taking it out on others sometimes. He admits he's an asshole (did you ever hear him tell you that? Admit to you he can be an asshole? Would you be shocked by that now?) and he tells me he'll try harder but he's set in his ways now. It's up to me to adapt. I'm doing my best. I promise I am.

My head is starting to hurt. I have more headaches now. Most of them stress related I'm fairly sure. I know you suffered from migraines. I'm fairly sure I'll have to have surgery on my feet at some point. I'm trying to take care of them with proper shoes though. So maybe not.

I kinda don't want to stop writing this because I've needed to write this, write you, for awhile now. Maybe it was for the best I waited until five years had passed but honestly? It feels like just yesterday. I hear that phrase so much and now I know how it feels. Part of me hopes that maybe I'll wake up one day and you'll be back and things will go back to how they were. But that's stupid. I know. But I still do.

But more than anything, I wish I could hear you tell me "I love you" one more time. Just one. It's not a major thing but it's all I want. I'll always want that.

I miss you so goddamn much. It hurts and I'm sorry I couldn't type this without crying but I know you'll understand. You always did. You always were the one who understood everything. I wish you were here. I get asked what I want for Christmas every year and the one thing I want is something no one can give me. And I hate it. I've come to really not care about Christmas. I'm selfish and want something no one can give me.

I want to hear your voice one more time. I want to know you are proud of me. Or, at least, you understand and accept the decisions I've made. I'm doing my best. I swear I am. I'm trying. I'm trying so hard.

Now I really am rambling. I better stop.

I love you Momma. I miss you more than words could ever convey.

Always,
Jenny

2013: A Personal Retrospective

I could write off 2013 as a lousy year. I could write it off as a miserable, lousy year where nothing good happened. If I did that, though, I'd be lying to myself and to a lot of other people. In truth, I could count it as one of my best years. Not as good as 2011, but certainly right up there. However, the paradox is that all the trips that I've taken, all the road tripping, the new friends, amazing wrestling matches...probably slim to none of it would have happened if mom hadn't passed away. So, how do I classify 2013 in light of the fact that her death created opportunities for me to grow as a person, to create new memories, happy memories, and new friends?

I'm honestly not sure how. All I can do is relate the ups and the downs, the personal growth and the new experiences, and take a look back.


I started off 2013 still on bereavement leave from work. New Years Eve was "celebrated" with dad watching the ball drop. Then, on Saturday the 5th, I traveled down to the first wrestling show of the new year for me: Crossfire Entertainment. I went for one reason: to finally meet and see wrestle in person someone I had admired for over a year, become a fan of, and had chatted with on Twitter: Jessicka Havok. I was nervous, and hesitant to go (going to new places on my own scares me), but I pushed myself to drive the two hours and head into the building. And I'm so glad I did. She genuinely almost jumped over the table when she spotted me. I can still remember the look on her face. And I got the first of many "Havok Hugs" where she engulfed me in her arms. Getting to meet her helped me tremendously, and attending the Crossfire show was a fine way to kick off the year as far as wrestling shows went. I didn't know it but it would be one of the last independent shows that Sami Callihan wrestled on. After the show I lingered to talk to Jessicka before heading back home. All in all, I'm very glad I went. Getting to meet Havok was a good way to start the year. ^_^

February was hard, as it was mom's birthday on the eleventh. I believe I went out to the cemetery but otherwise I can't honestly remember much about the rest of February or March. In April, though, things picked up as I got to fly to New York City to see one of my best friends, Eric, who I hadn't seen in over a year. I also attended WrestleCon and saw my first EVOLVE show as well as SHIMMER 53 and CHIKARA. I had the good fortune to meet a lot of wrestlers such as William Regal, Beth Phoenix, Kyoko Inoue and get a picture and autograph with them. I was also privileged to be part of the record-breaking crowd that attended SHIMMER and CHIKARA, and watch as the best female wrestling company in the world was broadcast live for the first time ever via Internet Pay-Per-View. As a bonus I got to see Daffney for the first time since September 2010 AND finally meet one of the best commentators in the business and a very sweet man Lenny Leonard. I'll never forget the way Daffney's eyes lit up when she saw me. It warmed my heart to see her looking so healthy and happy! But more on a personal level, I loved spending time with Eric and his boyfriend Trevor. Eric is someone who, together with Chris, helped me so much when mom passed. He's a beautiful soul and I'm very lucky that he was willing to let me stay at his home, show me around the city (especially places to shop!), and be brave enough to accompany me to WrestleCon despite his feelings. I'm making it a point to get back to NYC in 2014 to spend time with him.


The weekend after WrestleCon and NYC was AAW and SHIMMER in Berwyn. There I got to see my regular crew of friends that hadn't been able to make it to the fall tapings in 2012. Rooming with Cryssi and riding with her, Steven, Torri and Shanti; hanging out with Chris and Anthony - all of this helped in ways I can't fully explain in words. It felt like being encased in a healing bubble. True, I cried a little at points, but having caring friends there for me to hold onto...it helped. I'll always be grateful for the two weeks in April that I was surrounded by friends. Seeing the fantastic wrestling I always see at SHIMMER helped as well. Evie, Kimber Lee, Yuu Yamagata, Jessicka Havok all debuted on 53 and were in Berwyn for the full set of tapings. Serena Deeb and Madison Eagles all returned from injury without a hitch. Cheerleader Melissa started her turn towards the darkside after taking the title back from Saraya Knight. And we said goodbye to a pioneer in wrestling, a woman who elected to bow out due to injury rather than gamble with her health, a lady who helped create and nuture SHIMMER into the phenomenon it is today. We said goodbye to Allison Danger. She disclosed it was due to a stroke she had suffered earlier in 2013 that doctors found out she had lesons on the brain. They weren't/aren't life threatening, but given she has a family to help take care of she decided to stop wrestling. However, she will still be in and around SHIMMER to help out backstage which is a good thing. There are many, many people who can benefit from her knowledge. Wrestling owes Danger a debt of gratitude, and I'm grateful to have had her support as a friend as well.

Speaking of friends, from May to the end of the year the best thing that I can say happened was the fact I met more people due to wrestling. Some, like Angelus Layne, I was a fan of in late 2012 and got to know this year on a personal basis. Some, like BeesKnees followed me on Twitter and introduced themselves at shows like she did at the Girl Fight Wrestling show in Indiana. Also in May I started going to a lot of local shows on the basis of the new names that were getting my attention (when I say "new" I mean "new to me" not "new on the scene" period). Names such as Alex Castle, Matt Cage, Christian Rose, Reed Bentley, Tripp Cassidy. I started traveling 3-4 hours to places I have never heard of to promotions that were more fly-by-nights than more established ones if even one person I was a fan of was on the card. Somewhere along the way I became friends with these guys and others. I'm not sure how, but I was and remain grateful. They became part of my life, and in turn showed me how good wrestling could be found - if someone is willing to drive, that is. I certainly am, given there's nothing good in Kentucky.


I have definitely invested more time into wrestling promotions that aren't just all-female like I have in years past. AAW, AIW, DREAMWAVE, IWA:Mid South, VWAA - I've attended shows or bought DVDs and become exposed to a wider world of wrestling than I had previously known about. True, my knowledge is still meager compared to others but I'm continually fascinated by how much there is. And since all of the friends I've met in the past few years have come to me via wrestling...I'm pretty grateful I got into it back in 1999.

In July, I drove with Bentley up to Illinois for my first DREAMWAVE show. Getting to stay over with the WrestleFam (Cage, Rose, Mallaki Matthews and Jeff O'Shea) was a blast. Road tripping up with Rose, Bentley and Castle was a LOT of fun. That weekend was relaxing as well as fun, and it was great to get out of the house. You learn a lot about people when you're in the car with them for a few hours.

This would get long if I recounted every single trip I took, hah. The SHIMMER fall tapings were special to me since Cherry Bomb returned to team with Kimber Lee as one hell of a tag team; I got to see Nikki Storm in person and meet her; I saw the elevation of Mia Yim in a series of matches with Hikaru Shida, Melanie Cruise, Angie Skye and most importantly Madison Eagles; and the rise of LuFisto to the point where, in 2014, we may see her overthrow the two woman power trip of Mercedes Martinez and Cheerleader Melissa. It's no secret that I'm a huge fan, as well as a friend, of Lufi's and it was genuinely awful to witness her crash landing at WrestleCon. Through surgery and rehabbing (as well as some serious mutant healing factor!) she came back from it just like she came back through her other health issues to be at the top of her game. I was also happy to see that she got to accomplish one of her goals this year, which was to wrestle in the United Kingdom. If anyone deserves recognition as well as accolades it's LuFisto.

In September, I got more of a glimpse into indy wrestling than I had before when I went road tripping with Sassy Stephanie as she went from Farmville, Virginia to a small town in Pennsylvania and back home to Cleveland in the space of 2 days. It made me appreciate and respect the effort that men and women choose to put themselves through all for the love of wrestling. It's a far cry to go from wrestling in front of about 200 fans in the Berwyn Eagles Club to wrestling in a barn in front of 50-70 people. Yet that's what she did, and I was really glad she asked me to come along (although I felt bad - she did far more of the driving than I did!).


October was also fun since the weekend before SHIMMER, I got to hang out with not only Bentley, Nick and Jess but also Mark Andrews and Pete Dunne, two guys from the UK who were doing a small tour of the US. Also I had the pleasure of meeting Matt Knicks and Chris Castro, two guys I had seen and become a fan of from their stuff in Dreamwave but who turned out to be great guys. The show, Galaxy Wrestling, that they all wrestled on may not have been well attended but personally it was a blast. Perhaps, because it didn't draw well, some of the guys were able to get away with being more whacky than usual. It was definitely one of the more fun shows I saw all year. October was a good month overall. November was quieter but I really enjoyed spending time with my sister Shannon, her boyfriend Mark and my nephew Zack at Thanksgiving. We may not communicate as much as we should, or see each other as often, but there's the sister bond that I think has only gotten deeper since mom's passing. Certainly I appreciate her more than ever, and I'm proud of Zack. He's incredibly smart and has a sharp wit. If he keeps doing so well in school the sky is the limit for him.


December..I was honestly worried about. Christmas, New Years Eve and the one year anniversary of mom's passing. It fell on a Saturday and I had no idea how I should spend the day. I thought about packing a lunch and going out to the cemetery all day. I thought about going out to eat alone and reading. Or seeing a movie. But I was very scared about my emotional reaction. Fortunately the month started out great. Somehow, during the first weekend, I found myself sharing a car with Ricochet and Chris-friggin'-Hero. Yeap. Backtracking, the 6th was the second IWA:Mid South show I attended in 2013, Big Ass Christmas Bash and top to bottom it was one of the best cards I had seen all year. There was something for everyone, and on a personal level it was fantastic to see Christian Rose get a huge match against Drake Younger; and Matt Cage make his return standing out in an 8 person tag match. It was also good to see Tripp Cassidy and Josh Crane stand out in another multi-person match, despite what happened with Dale Patricks during it (fortunately he turned out to be okay, thank goodness!). All in all, it was a great show for IWA:MS to end 2013 on.

Ricochet and Bentley stayed over at my place overnight, then we went on to Illinois to pick up Angelus and Alex, and finished up in LaSalle for DREAMWAVE. DREAMWAVE ended it's 2013 on a spectacular high, and I'm going to do my level best to not miss a show. Hero and Trik Davis joined our car as we headed back down to crash at A & A's place overnight, then onto St. Louis for Beyond Wrestling tapings. It was 3 days of awesome wrestling, wonderful friends and plenty of stories. At Beyond, I got to see someone wrestle that everyone had put over to me as being the reason why they became better wrestlers. Danny Cannon did NOT disappoint. He's also very humble, very sweet and brimming over with positive mental attitude. I sincerely hope he stays in love with wrestling as he is so damn good at it. Plus I would like to run into him again! He was the last to be dropped off on the way back to A&A's house. True, I had a bad moment on the way back when it was just me, Bentley and Castle in the car, but at least it wasn't in front of anyone else.

Actually, thinking about it, one of the only bad points of this past year was inexplicably falling out with two of the girls I had become acquainted with after July. Months later, I still find it puzzling that they stopped talking and started point blank ignoring me for no reason I can think of (and I've thought about it a LOT). The only time we are in the same area is when we're at the same wrestling shows, but it makes me uncomfortable since we have the same group of friends. I've reached out to both via messages, asking if I had done something to upset or offend either one, and offering to apologize if I had, but never received a reply. I don't hate or dislike either girl, but I'm the kind of person who hates feeling left out and hates leaving out anyone else. If there's someone I don't care for hanging around, I usually try to be social and not ignore them if they're in the same social circle. But in this instance, I get the vibe that I'm not welcome even to stand near them. It could be all in my head (sometimes it is), but still...it makes me wonder what I've done. I'm also the kind of person who hates being on the outs with anyone I used to be friendly or friends with, so to not know what I've done to offend either one..it bothers me. As a friend said, I know I need to get over it, but still...I dunno.

Anyways, the twenty first rolled around and I still had no idea what to do or what to expect. But Bentley invited me to watch a local show not too far from my home, along with Jess and Nick. I got there late due to running errands but it felt nice to be with friends and not alone with my thoughts. The show was fine. The camaraderie was priceless. Bad weather spoiled our plans to watch one of the early Royal Rumbles together, so everyone wound up going back to their own place. I was completely grateful to Bentley, Jess and Nick for thinking of me, getting me out of the house for some fun. The night was hard, but I had something to look forward to: a wrestling charity show the next day. Evolution Pro Wrestling and IWA:Mid South teamed up to raise money for a family whose little girl has the same form of cancer that Zack Gowan has. Zack, along with various wrestlers from both promotions did the show in a great display of professionalism. Not only was there some amazing wrestling (Josh Crane versus Jonathan Gresham was outstanding), but I got to see Gage, Jodie, Isaac 3 people I had met over the course of the year and really gotten on with. Cage, Rose and Mallaki were due to come down from Iowa as well but due to a snowstorm they had to stay home.

Everything was going well until a triple threat match, the last match before the main event which featured Zack Gowan vs Reed Bentley. One of the dudes in the match, Elkview Adam, took a dive to the outside. He dove out of the ring opposite from me so I saw him dive but not land. What I did see were people scrambling out of the way, then screams from various fans. Before I knew it, Ian Rotten was out there screaming for someone to call 911. The locker room emptied out, helping keep fans out of the way, looking to see if there was anything they could do. I saw Ian rest his head against the apron, practically moaning, "No..no..." I legitimately thought he was dead. It wasn't until the ambulance came and picked him up that I realized he wasn't. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why the show wasn't ended then and there. Give the family the money raised and tell the crowd it's over. Bentley later told me that him and Zack managed to get the crowd back into the match, which shows how good both of them are, but I missed it. When I realized they were going on with it, I went out to my car to calm down.

The thing that shook me so bad was, aside from the accident, Ian's voice. I flash backed to when the EMTs told dad and I mom was gone. I can still hear dad moaning, "Awh no, no.." In that moment, Ian sounded like dad. It was too much and I had to go out to the car. Later, I went back in but for a few minutes I thought about going back home. I wound up going back inside to see if there was any news or if anyone planned on getting something to eat although I wasn't very hungry at the time. While some of them went to Spinelli's in downtown Louisville, me, Gage, Heidi, Tripp, Josh, Percy, and Nate Stone went to the nearby Denny's. Although I felt guilty for enjoying myself as much as I did, I can't deny I had a lot of fun especially getting to talk and hang out with Gage. He has a wonderful heart and is full of PMA. Just talking to him afterwards helped me feel better, but the whole group was hilarious. Definitely helped end the day on a decent note, but didn't prevent the nightmares that night.

I wound up working Christmas so the Saturday after that dad and I went to Shannon's house to eat and exchange gifts. Although I really had wanted to attend the AAW show the same day, I wasn't up for the drive alone and truthfully I'm glad for the time we spent at Shannon's. Everyone loved their gifts, we watched the U of K vs U of L game, and had fun playing with the animals.

I wound up working New Years Eve day, and getting the actual NYDay off. Now that I'm at the end of this, how do I view 2013 overall? Well...I guess I view it like anyone else. It had it's ups and it's downs. The downs were the worst I'd ever experienced. The ups were incredible. But I honestly believe I would not be here, I would not be doing as well as I have, were it not for my wrestling and the fact I've had plenty of wrestling to delve into to take my mind off things. If anything, this year has proven to me that the time and effort I've put into wrestling has paid off. It gave me something to do, somewhere to go, something to watch, and put me in contact with some of the best people I know. It continues to do all of this. I had no idea that, when I started watching WWF in 1999, that it would lead to friendships I cherish and would help sustain me during the worst thing that could have happened to me.

For this, wrestling will always have my loyalty, my gratitude and my support. There is nothing else in the world like professional wrestling.

On the flip side of the coin, as I said, wrestling has put me in touch with people I hold dear. These people have sustained and supported me throughout this; during the times when depression has taken hold of me; made me laugh when I wanted to cry; and helped in various ways that I will never forget. I want now to take the time to thank as many people as possible, but my memory has been completely shoddy this past year so if I leave anyone out it is NOT intentionally done I promise.

Eric & Chris: You two are my best friends. You both helped me so much, Skyping late at night, letting me vent and, when I got to see y'all in person in April, giving me hugs. Y'all have seen me at my worst and you knew what mom's loss meant to me. Chris, we have to go back to Montreal soon that remains one of the best memories I have. Eric, I promise to get back to NYC this year to see you with no wrestling involved. I love you guys so much.

Stephanie: I still remain baffled as to how similar our mothers' deaths were. It's eerie as hell. I absolutely hate that you have been and continue to go through what I am, but I'm glad that you have Chris as well as family and friends to help you through it. You have a heart of gold and I wish you nothing but happiness from here on out. You deserve it. Thank you for being a wonderful friend as well as a beautiful person inside and out. I hope that I've helped you in some small way like you've helped me. I love you gal.


Anthony: Although you've deleted your social media, I'm going to repeat all this in a letter. You were the first person I realized would be able to help support me the most due to your own loss. And you did. I still have the "Staring at the Sun" song you recommended to me last year on my iPod. I've listened to it several times. I've looked for the signs and been lucky enough to see some of them along the way. And the fact that you were willing to come to SHIMMER and to the afterparty despite the unpleasantness..you'll never know how much it meant when, after the show when everyone was clearing out Saturday evening, you found me in the crowd and gave me the biggest hug. It took everything I had to not start crying right there. I hate the fact this past year hasn't been the best for you. You deserve a good, happy life. You have a beautiful soul, and I treasure our friendship beyond words. Bless you.

Macy, Kay, Lisa, Andi: I dunno if you'll ever see this but thank you all. You helped me several times when I broke down at work or was unable to handle various stressful situations with patients. I'm grateful to have you all (or, in Lisa's case, have had you) as co-workers, God knows I could've had a worse year if not for working with such amazing ladies as yourselves.

Angelus and Alex: It's been truly wonderful to get to know you guys. Angelus, you've had a worse year than me but your fighting spirit and determination are so strong it's amazing. Alex, your kind heart and patience are an inspiration to others. Every time I've had the pleasure of sharing a car with you guys or watching you in the ring has been a blessing. I appreciate with all my heart your friendship.

Bentley, Nick and Jess: Y'all came into my life about halfway through the year and honestly I wish you had met me a year or two earlier when I wasn't as unstable as I have been this year. There were moments when I know I've made all 3 of you mad, and I am sincerely grateful for the fact that we're friends now. Nick and Jess, you two are the most perfect couple I've ever seen. Your love and your story gives me hope. Nick, your love of wrestling is so ingrained and shines in everything you do, it's amazing. The nickname of "Pro-Wrestling's BFF" fits you to a T. Jess, you have a soft spirit that sometimes hide what a fighter you are. But when you smile, it lights up the room. Together you two could move mountains. Cheesy but I believe it. Bentley, when I properly met you at the first Wrestling is Intense show I wasn't sure what to make of you. You were hilarious, your wit sharp and you've got a bluster that hides the fact you are a genuinely kind, honest person. No matter how much it may hurt or make me mad, I'm glad for the fact you will never not be completely honest. You gave me another chance when a lot of people wouldn't. You've seen me at my worst. I hope in 2014 you start to see me at my best. Thank you, all three of you.

LuFisto: God knows how I went from being a fan to being a friend of yours but I'm honored. You inspire me on a daily basis and I'm so glad to have seen you make a full recovery. You're one of the strongest women I know and it means more than words can express that you've reached out to help me this past year and even before mom's death. Thank you so much - here's wishing that 2014 brings you happiness, good health and most importantly SHIMMER GOLD! ;-)

Steven, Torri, Cryssi, Shanti, Ayzali, Greg, Joe, Mia Yim, Amber Gertner, Jeff, Allison Danger, Ben, Michael Liao, Cewsh and Mrs. Cewsh, Veda, Rhia, PUENTE!, Cherry Bomb, Mia Svensson, Su Yung, Havok, Athena, Portia, Kristen and Ichiban: My SHIMMER crew! (Even if some of you aren't at SHIMMER every time haha) All of you helped make the SHIMMER weekends one of healing and happiness for me and I'm so grateful for it. Thank you for the laughs, the fantastic wrestling, the hugs and the memories. These friendships are why I look forward to SHIMMER the most. Roll on April!

Cage, Rose, Mallaki, O'Shea, Knight, Tyler, Tripp, Josh, Gage, Greg B, J.J., Danny, Trik, Issaac, Heidi: All of you I've had the pleasure of watching in the ring this year and either getting to know on a personal level or purely as an acquaintance but either way wrestling has put me in touch with all of you. I'm really happy that wrestling has such a variety of talent as you guys and gal and, in Greg B's case, someone who is wholeheartedly supportive of independent wrestling. Rose, Cage, Mallaki and O'Shea, the first weekend I spent at y'all's WrestlePad in IL was hilarious. I don't think I had laughed as hard as I did then. At the same time it was also very cool to watch wrestling with people in the business and get your perspective. And in the past few months I've met the rest of you guys and gotten to see some of you in the ring. All of you have made me laugh and I value that above everything else. I'm very glad that our mutual love of this crazy thing called wrestling has put me in contact with all of you. You're all wonderful people. ^_^

Rachel, Andrew, Eryn, Sarah, Chelsi, Jodie, Diana, Alyssa, Alex, Dave M, Jerome, Chris, Des, Barry, Adam T, Leslie, Tamela, Leron, Mary, Chris R, Bobby, Katelyn, Dann and Emily, Sugar, Andre, April, Lenny, Daffney, Holly, Joy, Candy, Becky, Polly, Jennifer FauxBrit, Adam Lash, VA Mike, Dan, Emil, Biggins, Shane, Annie B, Gary C, Castro, Knicks, Pete, Mark, Katie, Misty, the Hooligans, Chrissy R, Nick G, Annie S, Darren, Stephane, Rovert, Moj, Phil, FiveStar, and Leva: Be you a recent friend, an old friend, an acquaintance, a colleague on PWP, or what have you all of you have helped me at various points this year. Most of you made me laugh which is something I have sorely needed. Some of you forgave me for being a complete jackass. Some of you listened when I needed to vent. Above all else, all of you made me smile. Smiles and laughter and a sympathetic ear (or eyes in this case) and discussion on various things and hugs. Thank all of you so much.

I legit tried to mention everyone but if I missed someone it was honestly NOT intentional (the above paragraph should prove that!). Be it in small ways or large, I am beyond blessed and humbled at the fact I know so many wonderful, generous, loving people. All I can say is thank you and say that if anyone ever needs an ear, a hug, a laugh or anything else that it's in my power to give, you have only to ask. I love you guys.

Now lets make 2014 completely amazing!

"Oh lord, please don't let me be misunderstood..."

I've written in the past about my mental illness, about losing mom, about a lot of personal things...writing is my best outlet and, at times it feels like my only outlet. I have a wonderful set of friends and family that I know I can vent to...but at times, it feels like I'm becoming or have become a burden on them. There's only so many times you can tell the same story, share the same feelings and frustrations to a person before they get tired of it. That's when I turn to writing. To try to explain, to make myself be understood.

No one, except my father and sister (who witnessed it over the years), truly understands how close I was to my mom. She was the one constant in my life. The only constant. Picture...picture two people in a lifeboat. They share the little food that they have, take care of each other, sometimes one rows, sometimes the other does. Neither one have a life preserver. One morning, one of them wakes up and sees the other is gone. During the night, a strong wave comes up and sweeps the second person overboard. They're gone without a trace, leaving the first person to feel loss, guilt and anger.

If you can imagine that, you can come close to understanding how I feel.

It seems cliche, but my mom really was my best friend. I told her everything. She, in return, told me everything. In later years, after she grew less ashamed of her drug usage, she would answer any questions I had about her cocaine usage. I learned a lot about cocaine, and the drug culture over all due to her honesty and openness. It took a long time for her to be so open, due to the shame and the guilt she felt. But I believe, aside from the fact that we were so close, the main reason she told me so many details was to keep me from wanting to do drugs. Since I hadn't had a clue growing up about her being an addict (I had a very wonderful childhood and she was always there for school events, to take care of me when I was sick etc.), I never saw the dark side of addiction. I didn't see the bad times. Her knowledge did keep me from having a desire to do harder drugs, although my own opinions on things like legalizing/using pot have changed.

Whenever I had a problem, she was there. Whenever I had a question, she was there. Whenever I was tired or worn out or sad, she was there. Whenever I was happy, accomplishing goals or exploring new things, she was there. She was there to encourage, help, comfort and inspire. In the last seven years though, the roles slowly shifted. As health problems started to emerge and be diagnosed, I was motivated to start keeping track of her medications, diagnoses, various doctors, and surgeries. In 2006, she saw one of the cardiologists I worked for at the time, who did two relatively routine cardiac tests. Due to the outcome of those, she was referred to a vascular doctor, and between the two, they saved her life. Her right carotid was about 80% blocked. Much more and she could have had a stroke. The vascular doctor cleared it out and a lot of her symptoms improved.

She had smoked since becoming an adult, for the majority of her life. We always encouraged her to quit, but it remained her last addiction. After being admitted into the hospital in late January 2012, once she was out, she quit. We were so proud of her. Her admissions in January and then in March were due to severe pneumonia. I can't remember which one it was, but on one of those occasions she was already so far gone her kidneys had started to shut down. Both times, the doctors told us that if she hadn't been admitted when she was, she would have died. In January, it was dad who took her to the hospital. In March, it was me who called 911 when she wasn't fully conscious. Over the course of 2012, thanks to easing back on the pain medication that she was given due to a host of chronic problems (which I was in charge of monitoring so she didn't accidentally take more than prescribed), getting her teeth fixed, and general improvements to her regime, she was getting better.

I told her several times that after her dental implants were gone, and her feet recovered (she had had the first foot surgery one week before she died), 2013 was going to be her best year yet health-wise. We had plans. Dad had plans too.

The thing that this has drilled into my head is that tomorrow isn't certain, no matter what. Don't leave things unsaid that need or want to be said. Don't leave things undone that need or want to be done. If you want to do something (you know, as long as it doesn't hurt yourself or others), then do it. Travel. Get a degree. Go skinny dipping. Skydive. Get drunk (responsibly). Volunteer. Buy someone you care for a gift. Spend time with friends. Have sex.  Go shopping. Live. The tattoo I got a few months ago symbolizes this, and has a small reminder of mom. "Don't just survive, live." is a quote from a friend. I'd heard different variations of said quotation before but they had always been rather long. This fit perfectly on my left forearm. For emphasis, there's a small lightning bolt below "survive" - my mother had a second nickname in the last 15 years of her life which came from the life she had lived and the struggles she had came through. Her nickname was "Stormy." Hence the lightning bolt.

Yet, there's another side to this situation. As a result of her not being there for me to take care of anymore, I've found I have more freedom to travel. I have gone to several wrestling shows that are within anywhere from an hour to 3-4 hours away from me. I've been gone for weekends at a time, road tripping with people I have come to know as a result of attending these shows and developing friendships with. My dad supports this and doesn't worry nearly as much as mom did, only asking that I check in with him and that I be careful. He trusts my judgment as to who I hang out with and where I go.

There's good and bad with this new freedom. The good is, obviously, that I have been able to discover 'new' wrestlers (new to me that is) and see some truly fantastic matches. I've also been able to get to know new people, get out of my comfort zone and expand my boundaries.

The bad is that I've spent more money this year than any year ever. On gas, hotels, tickets, merch, etc. Which, while I don't regret it, I could have used that money more responsibly. I've felt like I've been going off and just leaving my dad more than I should be. And I still feel guilty. If mom were still alive, there's no question that I wouldn't have gone to as many shows as I have. WrestleCon would've been out most likely. No road tripping with Steph. No Dreamwave. Possibly local shows, like IWA:MS. But, as a direct result of her death, I've been afforded more opportunities. And I feel like (as stupid as it sounds) I shouldn't be having good times that are a direct result of it. Every time I leave, I feel a pang. I thought at first the guilt would fade, but it hasn't. I don't know what to do about this.

I've also made some bad, or at least unhealthy choices that I might not have made if I had had her guidance. True, while sometimes I've done things in the past that she told me not to (and sometimes it's been fine, sometimes not), I always took into consideration her advice. She had a lot more life experience than I had. More times than not she was right. Now...it's all up to me. I'm not discounting the advice that I can get from my dad, others in my family or my friends but there's something to be said for the advice that only a mom can give you.

However...can I look back at the past year and say I have no regrets? Maybe just one, but that's iffy at best. I'm talking serious regrets too, mind you. But, aside from the lingering feeling I still have that I could have prevented her death, I honestly can't think of any. I've been very nasty, very bitter, very angry and lashed out at people that didn't deserve it - fortunately most of those people have at least forgiven me if not allowed me to try and mend the bridge. That's the thing I've taken away from this: always make the effort to mend fences while you still can. If you try and the other person doesn't want to, that's totally fine. But if you don't try, you'll spend the rest of your life regretting it. I have people I have deeply hurt and will always regret my actions/words towards them. 

Another unforeseen consequence of her death is the fact I've had a lot of time to myself to think. One of my worst traits is the fact that I tend to think too much. About most anything and everything. Once the snowball is formed and sent downhill it picks up speed until there's an avalanche coming down. It's mostly at night that I have my worst moments. During the day I can keep myself busy with work, chores, reading, etc. but at night when I'm lying in bed trying to sleep...the thoughts, the "what if's", the loneliness..it all gets to be a lot.

I started out this post as trying to explain further what mom's loss has meant to me, but I realize that despite everything I have written or will write, only I, my immediate family, and anyone who has ever suffered the loss of someone who meant the world to them will know what I am going through. However, this lack of understanding from others who don't fall into these categories hasn't stopped them from reaching out to me. I can honestly say that without my dad and without the friends and acquaintances I had before her death and those that I have made after the fact, I would not be here. Or, I would not be doing as well as I am now. I have more to say about this, and individual thank yous to give, but I'm going to save those for an overall 2013 retrospective piece. But for right now, I want to say a genuine thank you.

To anyone who offered an ear to listen, thank you.
To anyone who offered a hug, thank you.
To anyone who let me cry and either offered words of consolation or just quiet empathy, thank you.
To anyone who forgave me when I was sharp or harsh with them, thank you.
To anyone who did their best to make me laugh, thank you.
To anyone who forgave me for past misjudgments and previous arguments that were wholly my fault, thank you.
To everyone that cares, thank you. Thank you so very much.

Lastly, I started this post about a month or two ago. Over the holidays these past few weeks I've been struggling with my depression. The holidays used to be something I looked forward to, and truthfully I love giving gifts and seeing the expression on people's faces when they open their presents, but now I understand what people mean when they say they're in the "holiday funk." I want to post what I posted a night ago about what depression feels like, in the hopes that people understand that this genuinely is something I live and struggle with every day. Some days are better than others, but there will always be times where I am in a bottomless pit, unable to get out. It's my hope that once the holidays are over with and life returns to 'normal' (whatever that is), that things will improve and it won't be as hard as it has been. But if you ever want to know what depression FEELS like, read this:

Except for eating dinner with dad downstairs, I spent all day in bed. Called into work. If you ever want to know what depression is or feels like, it's this: Not having the energy or the willpower to get up. Not having anything to look forward to. Your every thought is that you will never fit in anywhere; there is nothing redeeming about yourself; you have nothing to contribute to the world; and that no one cares about you. Depression is anger turned against yourself. It's not a matter of thinking positive or "snapping out of it." It seeps into your mind and into your very bones and uses everything you have against yourself. It's awful. The Zoloft helps but there is no cure.
So if you ever wanted to know what Depression feels like..that's it. It sucks and I hate it.

Jumbled.

I was going to do a part three, but to be honest...writing those two pieces wore me out emotionally. My mood tanked during and after I was done. Instead, I find myself just wanting to write about what I'm feeling and thinking and have been thinking and feeling for the past seven months since her death. This won't have any kind of "pattern" to it. If there's a "flow" it will almost certainly be disjointed. I mainly want to get out all the things I want to say.


I miss my mother. Every day. Having to live in the same house I've lived in for, now, the majority of my life...to see the room where she died every day, to see her in my memory laying there on the floor not breathing..I'm fighting tears just writing this. For a little over 30 years, she was my rock. My mom was the only constant in my life. Even my dad, despite the fact we now have a wonderful relationship and have for the past years since they got remarried...there was a period when he wasn't there. Now, the constant presence, my rock, the person I always came home to..she's not there. And I am drifting. I'm scared.

I'm scared that something will happen to dad, and then I'll be totally alone. I'm scared of something happening to me at my job. I'm scared of pushing friends away by being clingy. I'm scared of becoming dependent. I'm worried and lost. Physically and emotionally and mentally, I feel weak. My memory has gone downhill - I remember a lot of things so clearly, and others..I can't even remember simple conversations I've had a month ago. I've always relied on my great memory. Emotionally, I'm more up and down than I've ever been before. Which is taking a toil on myself and on my friends, family and coworkers. I'll be fine one day, and all it will take to sink my mood is a remark that either I take the wrong way or is intended to be hurtful. Mostly the former. I joke about being a "pocket volcano" but sometimes it's the truth. I go off. I don't think before I speak. And you can't always do damage control. I'm utterly grateful that I have understanding and supportive family and friends - but everyone has a point.

I saw a therapist. My work provided a certain amount of therapy sessions for free, and I had two left before I had to start paying. My counselor suggested I save the two for when I felt like I truly needed them. Which, I could always go back..but it doesn't change things. My mother is dead. She is not coming back. And I am so fucking angry. I've hit walls, pillows, thrown things, almost broke my tv remote throwing it against the wall. I need to get a punching bag to take my anger out on, or something..I've screamed at times, when I've been alone in the house.

The day mom was buried, I told God that I wouldn't be talking to Him for quite some time, if ever again. Because it wasn't fair. How many times had I told her in December before her foot surgery that 2013 was going to be her best year yet? She had a shitty 2011, was in the hospital twice during the first 3 months of 2012, but after her first trip she quit smoking (after smoking for most of her adult life - the fact she had enough will power to quit made me so fucking PROUD), and she was finally on the right dose of medication across the board. She wasn't overdoing her pain medication (she trusted me to keep track of the pills, and never took more than she was prescribed because the fear of becoming addicted kept her from it), her regular medicines were keeping her other health problems in check, she was in the process of getting dental implants so she could eat the foods she hadn't been able to in past years, and her first foot surgery went so well...she was going to be able to walk pain free for the first time in a decade or more. She was doing everything right. I was so proud of her, telling her time after time that 2013 was going to be so fantastic. That we would go back to New York, or Vegas or heck even Italy. She wanted to go back so much...

After all that, despite the fact that so many others deserved to go before her...she went first. I had people tell me, "God wanted an angel so He took her." THAT MADE ME SO FUCKING MAD. Because I had never, ever seen God as selfish but that struck me as the most selfish thing of all. Taking someone because He wanted that person? What about us? What about the people that wanted her here? She told me so many times she didn't want to leave before she had seen that I would be okay and taken care of. But no. Yes, I know, life isn't fair, bad things happen to good people, yadda yadda...but for someone who had a solid faith..it broke my faith, among other things. And since then, I haven't properly prayed. It bothers me sometimes, that I just don't care about my relationship with God. But I can't bring myself to lie and to force something that He would already know isn't genuine. And it makes me wonder...is she in Heaven? Hell? Limbo? Paradise? Maybe she's in the ground, trapped in her corpse, in that tiny blue box surrounded by dirt. Yes these are all things I have considered. When I look up at the stars at night, the few I can see, I wonder. Can she see me? Can she hear me? Is she in pain? Or is she just gone?

Oh yes, I do believe there are people who should have died before my mother. Even some members of my own family that don't take care of themselves the way momma did. That are stuck in their own addictions and don't have the will or the drive to get out of them like mine did. Some have told me that they believe they would have gone before her, and I think, "You should have." Cold? Cruel? Yes. But it's true. My mom went through so much to get her health back on track, her LIFE back on track...and in the end, it didn't mean a fucking thing. Makes me wonder about life.

Anger is the most prevalent. That, and guilt. Because I took care of her. I was sleeping five fucking footsteps from her door. And I didn't hear her fall like I have so many times before. If she yelled or cried out, I didn't hear her. I wasn't there. I've been there so many times before when she's fallen and needed me to help her get back up. I've been there to call 911 when she was unconscious. I've been there to sort through her medicines, to call them in, to take her to doctor appointments, to help her walk when she couldn't. I WAS ALWAYS THERE. And when she needed me, in those five or six hours between when I saw her last and when dad woke me up, I wasn't. I wasn't there. No I don't know if I could've saved her, if anyone could have. The autopsy said that, long story short, it was a heart attack. I cry bullshit. She saw her cardiologist, someone that saved her life back in 2006 when her carotid had built up so much it was starting to block her blood flow, in September. Three months before she died. And the doctor said her heart was strong. So what happened in the 3 months that passed? What did she miss? What did I miss? How could this have happened??

I don't know. I have no answers. All I have is just overwhelming loss and insecurity and fear and anger. So much anger.

And guilt. Because, before, the only times I went away for long periods of time were SHIMMER weekends. Mom grew comfortable enough to see me off without any concerns. But I always called to check in on her. And in 2011 there was Vegas and England, but otherwise that was it. Last year, there was Montreal but it was also for a weekend. Likewise up to visit Stephanie and go to AIW in Cleveland. Never for long. But now...now, I have new and more responsibilities, but also more freedom. And I hate to admit that, because momma was never, ever a burden or a liability. She worried about the fact that I didn't get out much, but I never wanted too. For the most part, I was content. Now? In the last 7 months, I've been to New York to visit Eric and go to WrestleCon; Berwyn for SHIMMER; and numerous wrestling shows that are 3-5 hours away. As I've started watching more wrestling and seeking out what there is in my area, I've become a fan of new people - and just as I was willing to travel to see the female wrestlers I was a fan of, so I've become willing to travel to see the male wrestlers I've become a fan of. Indiana, Illinois, Tennessee. And several times I've felt guilt pangs. Because I never would have done all this, gone to all these places, if mom had been alive most likely. My weekends were spent with her. Every time a trip has come up this year, I've struggled with the guilt I feel about going which makes me reluctant to go. Every time. Each time I've gone, and I've had great times, and great experiences, and gotten to know more people...but each time, I struggle with the guilt. And also the guilt of leaving dad although he tells me time and time again not to feel guilty, to go, to have fun, to live.

I want to. But the guilt doesn't fade. I worry, I fret, and usually for nothing I admit. Going to SHIMMER was cathartic. I truly needed to be with friends that were more than friends - they were family. The hugs I received helped me more than I can ever say. The first wrestling show I went to after mom's death came..I think two or three weeks after her funeral. It was Crossfire Entertainment in Nashville, TN. It was where I met Jessicka Havok. I was reluctant to go - but I'm so glad I did. She nearly jumped over the table when she saw me (legit) and gave me the biggest hug I'd ever gotten. I could've started crying but I didn't. Getting to finally meet her...that started the long healing process. I finally got to tell her how much that experience, and how much her friendship, meant to me in May.

In truth, I could spend the rest of this entry explaining what each person I know and love has done for me. The Voxes, the text messages, the Tweets, the emails...and the hugs. Most of all, the hugs. Because I miss that the most with mom. She was always there to hug me before I left for work, to hug me when I came home, and to hug me before we went to sleep. You honestly don't know how much a simple gesture like that MEANS UNTIL IT IS GONE. And I am closer to so many of my friends than my family...in ways small and large, it's only because of them that I'm doing as well as I am.

I hate being alone. I never realized it until I had to start coming home to an empty house (my dad drives a truck for Wal-Mart, and he's gone Monday morning to Friday night, although that's recently changed a bit) - how many times have I come home and yelled, "Mom I'm home"? Too many. Too many have I opened her door, expecting her to be there...and she's not. Too many times have I actually HEARD the stairs creak like they do when someone's walking up them, and looked up expecting her head to start appearing. Which it never does. I despise being alone. At SHIMMER, I roomed with Cryssi, and drove her, Shanti, Steven and Torri around. I sat with them during the shows. Hung out with them, Katelyn, Chris and so many others during the after party. At AAW the Friday before, I finally met Angelus Layne and Alex Castle, after having corresponded with them via Twitter since becoming a fan late last year. I consider them the brother and sister I never had. It meant more than I can say to have Anthony come and attend Sunday's show with me, talk with me extensively at the after parties, and then encourage me to sing at Karaoke on Sunday night. I have never sang at Karaoke before, ever. Too shy. But with his encouragement I got up and poured my heart out...and in that moment, I felt free. I was NEVER alone during that SHIMMER weekend, and I thank God for the friends who were there for me. Precious people. And when I cried, I had friends there to comfort me. The love I felt that weekend helped me so much.

But recently, I think I've become too needy, too attached. I think it's why I've spent so much more time on Twitter - because even when I'm in the house by myself, there's almost always someone online I can chat with, even just casually. I am not connected physically, but via the internet, I'm not fully alone. But I feel like I've started trying to fit myself in with people too much - like forcing a square peg into a round hole, so to speak. In my need to not be alone, I think I'm trying to force myself into groups that I don't belong to. I had a wonderful few days when I went to Illinois for Dreamwave - the best weekend I'd had since December, or so I thought - but now..now I don't know. Maybe I'm trying too hard to be...I don't even know, too hard to be a friend? An insider? A support? A cheerleader? Or, I'm trying in the wrong ways.

Maybe I'm trying to find more people to be that "rock" that mom was. Not in a romantic sense, but that I can rely on, like I relied on her. My sister always thought I clung to her too much though.  That was something she threw at me during the fight we had in February 2012, that I would never make it in the real world without her. And maybe she was right. Maybe, when dad is gone, and I'm truly on my own I won't make it. Maybe I'll sink. There were times I considered suicide after mom died. Maybe, when dad's gone, that will be enough to drive me over that point.

Because you can't rely on ANYONE BUT YOUR GODDAMN SELF IN THIS LIFE. Everyone else LEAVES or DIES or lets you down. And it is stupid, so fucking stupid to think that that isn't true. Or maybe I will grow hard enough to survive on my own. Hard enough, strong enough, harsh enough, cold enough. The one person I thought would always be there, or that I would at LEAST have enough time to say goodbye to (like we had time with Nannie) to is GONE out of my life and I didn't get to say goodbye. I didn't get to save her like I had before, and you know what? You don't get to save anyone. You can only save yourself. You can only look out for yourself. I am crying so hard right now, I want to scream but I can't because dad is in the other room and he's already worried enough about me. I am so angry and lost and confused and jumbled and nothing will ever be the same again. I'm shaking. Honest to God, I want assurance that it will be okay and the one person I always counted on to be there to tell me it would be okay is GONE. GODDAMNIT.

I've been working on this since Friday, and that last paragraph was set off after getting mad over something on Twitter. See? I am unstable. I am that goddamn volcano. Sometimes I wonder if I'm losing my fucking mind. I have such good days, such great days and then it falls apart. Like a glass that breaks. But I don't want to be fragile. I don't want to need anything or anyone. But humans are social creatures by our very nature. I've always wanted to fit in somewhere, but I always always feel like a god damn tag along, no matter how hard I try or what I do. I feel absolutely sick to my stomach. It's now that I see how pathetic I am. I want to put my fist through this computer screen and it's taking every ounce of self control that I still have to not do it.

I've been called crazy, I've been called a whore, I've been called a ring rat, I've been called a momma's girl. Maybe I'm all of that, maybe I'm none of it. Maybe I'm looking for something that I'll never ever find - complete acceptance. Mom gave me that - and now she's gone. And I don't know what to do. I don't know how to find peace or joy - the wrestling events I went to, the time spent with friends, that's all I've found that gives me joy since she died. But what happens when I become too reliant, too clinging, too needy, too desperate? What happens when one by one they draw away? What happens when my dad dies and I'm truly alone? I don't know. I used to be so sure, about so many things and now I'm not. I'm not sure about anything, not God, not faith, not anything. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I am pathetic. I feel like it.

I feel tired. And I could keep going but now I've drained myself. My eyes are red, my face is ugly, all the emotion and the anger I've pounded into this poor keyboard until my fingers have hurt. And it all just starts to repeat. There's no point. Hemmingway once said that life breaks us, and when we heal we're stronger at the broken points. But sometimes, we just stay broken.

In Memory of the Most Wonderful Mother (Part 2)

My mom, age 2, with her mom and dad.

My mother lived for 62 years, and she packed a lot of life into those years. She was married three times (well, four technically, if you count her re-marrying my father in 2001), had two daughters that grew up to be strong, independent, outspoken women, and overcame a myriad of problems that might have made a lesser person go off the rails. Her experiences shaped her into a woman with an incredible will, a compassionate heart, and a deep understanding of things that a lot of people cannot understand.

Graduation day. Mom is on the left, her sister Debbie on the right.

By her own admission, mom was a straight laced girl through school (although she had her fair share of getting into trouble with her sister, Debbie), shy and quiet, and married her high school sweetheart Richard after graduation. They had my sister, Shannon, but after her birth Richard grew jealous and distant. His behavior proved to be too much, and mom divorced him. Her second husband, Mike, was a marked contrast - he was wild, a party-loving guy, and the person who introduced mom to her first stint with drugs. It was mostly acid, LSD, and in her later years when I was old enough to understand, she would tell me about the things that she saw under the influence. It was funny later, but obviously at the time, it was no laughing matter. Mike wound up cheating on mom with one of their mutual friends, but even after the divorce and her moving back in with her parents, the drug use didn't end. If anything, it got worse. Things came to a head when mom forged a check from her father's account. She knew she would get caught, but she did not care. Part of her probably wanted to get caught, and this was a way out. Inevitably PawPaw (my grandfather, her dad) found out and gave her a choice. Check into rehab or get kicked out. To her credit, mom went through JADAC (one of the drug rehab places in town), and began her recovery.

Mom and dad, the early years.

She got clean and I think at this point, her and my dad were married, and driving cabs. But after she was robbed, mom quit. It might have been at this point that I was born, in 1982. Mom stayed home while dad switched to driving trucks (which eventually led to his long time employment by Wal-Mart), but at some point she was hired by Jewish Hospital, one of two jobs she held for the longest period of time. She was a switchboard operator who eventually became known as one of the hardest workers in the hospital, known and trusted by dozens of people. But it was during these years that she fell off the wagon - thanks to a relative.

"No, Jenny, put down the bottle."

I didn't learn this until within the past two years, but one of my cousins introduced her to cocaine. She started using it at some point during the late 80s-early 90s. To her credit, I had no clue. True, I was young, but there were martial problems developing between her and my dad (due to him having a one night stand with a woman who worked, of all things, with a traveling circus that had come through town), and as a result mom began to dote on me excessively. When he was gone, I slept in her bed with her, and even when he would return home, I slept in between them. I was young, and didn't realize I was a literal and figurative barrier between them. During the night, once I was asleep, was when she would use, and stay up all night, paranoid. Yet she was a perfect mother - was there for school meetings, every time I was in a play or received an award, took me places, bought me things. There was never a lack of love or attention. And I never had an inkling.

She encouraged my attitude.

Fast forward to 1995. Momma had been drug tested at work and it came back positive. They forced her into rehabilitation, but this time she went to a group headed by a counselor named Leo Hobbs. The hospital wound up firing her under another pretext, but she stuck with Leo who led her onto the road to recovery. But before it took hold, my grandmother (Nannie), sister (Shannon) and dad gave mom an ultimatum: tell me about the drug usage or they were going to take me away from her. She had probably hoped to spare me from the knowledge, but after this she couldn't. I remember the day - she said she needed to talk to me, and that we were going for a drive. We drove up to Highview park, about 10 minutes away, and as I watched the trees go by, I quite clearly remember wondering what she had to tell me that was so earth-shattering. The only thing I could think of turned out to be exactly what it was: she was a drug addict. Mom was deathly afraid that I wouldn't love her anymore, that I would turn against her for not being as perfect as I had always thought she was.

She couldn't have been more wrong. If anything, I loved her more. She was still a perfect mother, but not a perfect person. She was fallible, human - and the fact that she was willing to do whatever she could to stay in recovery, and keep me, made her precious. I met Leo a few times, and he was always kind, understanding and willing to play a game of Jinga that he kept in the office. Thanks to his counseling and her strength, she never relapsed. I believe that her future medical problems may have stemmed from the cocaine usage, but have no way of knowing for sure. She cut ties to both family and friends that used to place herself away from potential temptation.

In Florida 1999. Mom is not amused.

It was in late '98-early '99 that my mom and dad divorced, and I'm sorry to say that I'd never had a close relationship with my dad after earlier years (when I didn't know/wasn't able to understand the problems), and I was old enough to choose to live with my mom. She began a relationship after their divorce with a man whom she had met online. His name was Tom and he lived in Florida. They did the usual online relationship stuff - phone calls, trips, etc. until he finally moved up here and in with us. At the end of the school year, in May 1999, mom and I went to Florida for the first time, and went to Universal Studios. It was fun but during our trip, mom broke two discs in her back during a boating trip. She went to a hospital down there where the doctor told her it was nothing big - and it turned out it was. That was where her degenerative disc disease began, I believe. Due to the continuing pain (a doctor later told her he was amazed she had been able to walk around Universal, given she had something akin to a broken back!), we didn't do as much as we could have but we made the best of it and a lot of fun!

Hanging out at Universal!

Her relationship with Tom went south, however, and he wound up moving out. Her and my dad started dating (which myself and a co-worker at the job she was at during the time encouraged), and they wound up getting re-married in January 2001. During the two years they were divorced, I had grown much closer to dad, and that relationship only got better after the remarriage. Both of them had changed for the better - they were friends as well as spouses, and there was much more communication and love shown. I was truly blessed to witness and be apart of this second stage of their relationship. True, both got on each other's nerves from time to time, but there was never any doubt about the love or the commitment from them both. We took trips together, went out to eat, ate together at home..it was a completely different relationship, and it made me proud to witness their love.

January 2001, the start of the better half.

When I got into wrestling in 1999, mom may have thought it strange at first (considering I had disliked wrestling most of my life to that point, even mocking my cousin who was a huge Hulk Hogan fan), but she never discouraged me from any of my hobbies. Whether it was reading, comics, climbing trees (I was your typical tomboy), or wrestling she either accepted it or went further and encouraged it. However, this was a plus as she happened to see Shawn Michaels during an episode of RAW and started to watch it with me. We would discuss what was real, what wasn't, the stories, the wrestlers, and in July of that year, she took me to my first RAW which I believe was the last one before the July '99 PPV, Fully Loaded. We had seats way up near the top of Freedom Hall but it was still a lot of fun. Every wrestling show I went to, aside from Judgment Day 2000 and the last WWE show I went to, a Smackdown a few years ago, I went with mom who always had fun. I remember the first house show we went to (all the others had been RAW or Smackdown! live/tapings), Shawn Michaels had returned full time by then and was teaming with the Big Show to wrestle Triple H and Chris Masters. They did several hilarious bits, one of which involved Hunter running in circles while HBK held onto him.....by his tights. Hunter had a magnificent rear end. Our last wrestling-related trip was in 2007 when we drove to Memphis for Unforgiven in 2007. It was a spur of the moment decision, and I paid for the tickets. We had the best seats for any WWE show we'd ever had: on the ramp barrier, second row. If you were facing the ring from the entrance way, we were on the left. And it was a jolly good thing mom was with me - she had to calm me down after Triple H saw my sign ("I Came for the Game") and reached out and touched my hand. Just mine. Mom and I walked around Memphis before the show, it was a beautiful day. We carried our chairs back to the hotel, which was in walking distance, and more than once we were asked what the chairs were for. We still have both chairs.

May 2000: My Graduation Day. She was so proud.

When my friend, and first boyfriend, Andrew, passed away in January 2008, once mom saw I was determined to attend the funeral, she went with me and supported me. Aside from Nannie's death in 2002, and Grandma Dorothy's (dad's mom) in 2006, Andrew's was the hardest up to that point. We had been friends, meeting on America Online, in 1997 and he had claimed to have been in love with me since then, but we didn't get together until 2002 after my grandmother had passed. Our little under two years together was rocky (due to the distance and my impatience), but mom did all she could to support us. She was the one who did research on his form of cancer, neuroblastoma, and therefore knew what the eventual consequences would be. I didn't want to accept it, but we did finally break up in early 2004. Four years later, I attended his funeral with momma by my side. His family was so wonderful towards us and I have never forgotten this. Mom supported me as I broke down and grieved for the first love and the friend I had lost.

When I made plans in 2010 to attend SHIMMER for the first time, she was dead set against it. At one point she said, "You don't even know what really goes on up there!" - as if it was some big orgy of sex and violence or something. Up to that point, I had usually let her fears combine with my own to keep me from doing new things. And she had a right to be anxious, as everyone I would 'know' in Berwyn I only knew through Twitter and Facebook. I'd never met any of them in person. But for the first time, I kept my determination and went. Obviously, it turned out okay, and from then on mom had less anxiety when I went. Although she didn't quite expect me to become involved in only my second relationship as a result of that trip. Another long distance relationship, except this one involved an ocean being between us. From the start, despite being happy at how happy I was, mom wasn't 100% supportive. She never said anything to make me doubt, but she was never keen to discuss it and at times talked to me about how it could be years before anything permanent could be done. Unfortunately, 2011 was one of her worst years health-wise, and despite going to Las Vegas with dad while myself, Lee and our friends were there on vacation, she wasn't in a good condition to meet him properly. We had dinner together, but I could tell from the beginning she wasn't in a good place. And when I flew to England to visit him for a week, she was scared to death. But, ironically enough, when I had finally convinced her that I was patient enough to see this through and she was ready to not only accept but encourage our relationship in any way that she could, Lee and I broke up in February 2012. As always, mom was there helping me deal with the turmoil of emotions I experienced during the subsequent months. And as I started to go to other wrestling shows that were short drives away, she encouraged me to go. She was happy that I was getting out of the house.

In October 2012, I had my worst SHIMMER experience to date, not due to the shows or the after party, but going back to the hotel alone afterwards. However, thanks to mom, a week later I flew to Montreal for Femmes Fatales X and had one of the best times of my life with my friend Chris. Momma loaned me the money for the airplane ticket. It was entirely due to her that I was able to go. There was very little my mother was not willing to do for me. Sure, I was undoubtedly spoiled for the majority of my life, but from her I developed a generous, giving spirit. To this day, if I can help a friend with anything be it money, time, attention, whatever, I don't hesitate. That comes from mom.

(Left) In Washington in '09. (Right) My 18th birthday May 2000.

We took several trips to visit relatives in Virginia Beach, and in Tennessee. I can remember one trip we were coming back, just the two of us, from Tennessee, and we were stuck behind a long row of cars on a strip of highway in the mountains. Mom was getting increasingly frustrated at how slow they were going and wondered what the cause of it was. At one point, she said, "I swear, I'm going to kill the person who is responsible for this backup!" Finally, she decided to go around them and as we got to the front of the line of cars, I started laughing hysterically. It was a hearse. We had been stuck behind a funeral procession. I told mom, "Well looks like you can't kill them - they're already dead!" That was a story that never failed to get a laugh. Those car trips were always fun and it's where I developed a love of road travel. There were certain places we stopped every time we went there and back. A few years ago, my parents and I as well as my sister's ex-husband, Shannon and Zack went to Florida for a week. It was wonderful! Mom, dad and Shannon went para sailing, and me and mom swam with dolphins. She loved that. After Nannie passed away in May 2002, in September, my great Aunt Marie and Uncle Louis took her to Italy for two weeks, to meet our family there in Montefiascone (Nannie's father, Guido Maragoni, had traveled on a boat to come to America) and sight see in Rome. That was the best trip of her life, at least until her and I went to New York City for the first time properly (she had been once before, when she was 17, but it was only for two days) in September 2012. Our trip together there was magical. We packed a lot in for a week, taking a tour of the harbor, seeing the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island; shopping, relaxing. In the fall of 2009, my parents and I went to Washington DC and did a lot of sight seeing before driving down to see our relatives in Virginia Beach. We had a lot of travels, saw so much together, and experienced many unforgettable things..

Bottle feeding Spike. She loved that spunky kitten!

Through her, I developed a love of almost every animal. Mom always opened her home to any stray that came her way, or would help them find good, loving homes. My first cat was a stray, as was Shannon's. She was a lifelong member of the Kentucky Humane Society and the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. She never hesitated to donate to them, something that I have taken up doing. Compassion and gentleness towards animals is something she never hesitated to show.

Nannie and Mom at a Tom Jones concert. Beautiful smiles.

Everything that I am, I owe to mom. Watching her care for Nannie as my grandmother spent the last six weeks of her life in April 2002 from cancer, I learned true strength. Watching her choose each day to not give into temptation, I learned dedication. Each time she refused to pass judgment on someone struggling with their own demons, I learned compassion. Each time she did something that she was terrified to do, I learned courage. By knowing her and her past thoroughly, and only loving her more throughout the years, I learned unconditional love. By being loved and supported by her when I made decisions on my own, for good or for ill, I learned how to love unconditionally. By caring for her in progressively larger ways since 2006, I learned patience. Through her love of animals and support for various charities, I learned tenderness and generosity. By working side by side with her at my first job, I developed a strong work ethic. I learned loyalty and bravery and independence from her.

Every good quality I have, every positive trait I have developed...it's all due to my momma. In the later years, as her health went through increasing bad spots, I was there to help keep track of her medical problems, her medications, doctor appointments. When her hand writing wasn't good, I did the bills and took over keeping track of the checkbook. On the weekends I would help clean the house when she wasn't feeling well. Taking care of the woman who had raised me, loved me, and took care of me became my purpose in life. And, although at times it was frustrating, I never resented it or hated it. Rather, I saw it as my reason for living. After all, she gave me life - the prospect of putting her off onto someone else was never an option.

Mom and Zack - a proud, happy grandmother.

I love my momma. And I am beyond proud to be her daughter. I am proud of the fact she faced her drug addiction and overcame it. I am proud she never let her medical issues drag her under. I am proud that she lived an exciting, vibrant life. And I am proud that, according to her counselor Leo, I am the reason she wanted to get and stay sober. He told me in recent emails that her love for me was a source of strength that enabled her to prevail; I was instrumental in her recovery because she loved me and wanted to be the mother I deserved.

The life of the party!

From the moment I was born until the day she died, she was nothing less than the perfect mother. If I can be half the woman that she is, it will be enough. I treasure the memories of us together, our trips, the laughter and the fun. And I know that she is not truly gone...her blood runs through my veins. Her spirit is with me. Right now, I simply exist and take advantage of the fun moments that life provides...and one day, maybe I will find another purpose in life.

I love you mom. I miss you. I will always love you and always miss you. I hope I can make you proud. You always made me proud. Always.

The locket was my great-grandmother's. It contains pictures of Nannie (her daughter) and Mitzie (Nannie's dog). The fingerprint is my mom's - the funeral home made imprints of her pinkie and put them on silver for my dad, Shannon and I. I never take these off, except to sleep and shower. They are always with me..