Everything was fine when I was still in education.

I had my home, I had my mum, my younger brother, and we all had each other. I had her to talk to, to get advice from, to ask for help whenever something was too complicated or "too adult" to understand. When I moved to the UK to go to University, I called all the time, felt homesick, frustrated, I couldn't understand the school system, and I was so afraid of making new friends and finding communities, even stuff I was interested in. But she was always a phone call away, she would always remind me that. When I graduated with a Music degree, I was still hopeful even though I knew how cutthroat all areas of the industry would be, and even though she never had a clue because it was out of her field, she always knew what to tell me to push me into the direction I wanted to go.

Then she got cancer, the big bitch of medicine. Funny, she had it 2 separate times before and recovered for well over 10 years, so when she told us, I was still afraid, I still cried rivers of tears, but even her and the doctors thought she would make it through this time as well. So she got treated, I graduated, we celebrated with an Indian takeaway, and I decided to stay in the city to find work, build up my name and make connections while working in hospitality, as was always the plan. But the plan didn't work, because I couldn't find a job. I went on to get financial benefits, which made her cross because she was sure it would only be temporary and I would find work soon. Even when I did, 5 months later, I found that I had been accepted to work in the most emotionally abusive environment I had experienced so far (they may as well be for an entirely different story). Then she went to the hospital, apparently something not involving the cancer had gone wrong and she needed to be treated. When I went to see her, she told me and my brother that they had to stop her chemo, that it had spread, and she wasn't going to be alive for much longer. I was 22 at the time, and barely understood how bills or tax worked, and I had no music career I could see in front of me, nor one that she would be here for.

They told us it could be months, or it could be shorter, the doctors didn't know, but it was enough time for everything to crumble. I spent as much time as I could with her, while still trying to meet my abusive bosses standards, and desperately begging for shifts to keep myself from going completely broke. I could talk all day about the month I experienced, with the news, everything needed sorting, and I was next of kin so I had to do most of it, and I hardly found enough time I could spend with her, let alone talk about the mundane parts of life.

Then she died, not even a month after she told me she would. Ever since I took more emotional beatings from work, more documents to sort, my brother being almost an adult at the time was due to go into foster care because I didn't earn enough to provide for him (he is safe now, with a family friend we've known since childhood). I went into the deepest depression I had ever been in, tried everything I could to not loose myself in despair, but it was all too much. And all I wanted to do at that time was to call her just to hear her voice, talk about what we saw on walks, on schoolwork, everything we talked about normally.

So I set to work, I went back to my home country to clear out my childhood home, report her death, collect her documents, the place she worked even made a plaque to honour her memory, which might have been the closest thing I could have for a funeral. Since then, I still had not found work after I returned, I still had documents to complete, and I still wanted a career. I was expected to keep going with everyone else when I wanted to just stop everything and bury myself where no one would find me, but I knew I couldn't. I'm 24 now, I'm trying to work things out, even moved in with my partners wonderful family so I wouldn't destroy my sanity trying to keep up with an unkind economy.

Even after all of that, she is still gone, and I am still completely lost, and feel like I have no way of moving forward. My only options lately are to take things slowly and talk about it, so here I am talking about it, because that seems to be the most straightforward solution.

This has been my story the last year and a half, and it really really sucks looking back on it.

I appreciate anyone who reads this, I'm sorry it won't be a positive story, but thank you.

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