Hello There.

Like i've stated I had some good news I wanted to share but decided not to because I'll feel like an idiot if it doesn't happen or jinx myself. So therefore no good news for today. Instead I wanted conclude my thoughts and feelings about my great grandfather's death. Up until today I was suffering with anxiety attacks. The symptoms I usually suffer from are shortness of breath and chest pain. I'm not too sure at what triggers the attacks but what I do know is that it is extremely scary and annoying. Especially when you're on the train, where people are overlapping others, there is no personal space and you can't lie down to relieve the pain. Again, annoying as well as scary. I haven't treated it just yet, considering I found out that I suffered from them like a month ago but I did call my doctor, hopefully we can find a way to lessen the attacks or not so much lessen them but to control them.
I haven't had one all day. Maybe because I'm too busy at work to think about what happened or because I have accepted what happened. I'm not too sure. Again I don't know exactly what triggers the attacks but what I do know is that I haven't been afraid to think about death or the death of my love ones. It's going to happen, whether I want it to or not. I call it bittersweet. Losing the one you love hurts. To know you're never going to see them again, hurts. You're memories of them, hurts. Seeing things that remind you of them, hurts. You're going to have to accept the fact that they're gone. And that's the bitter part. The sweet part is knowing that they're in a better place. You will no longer have to worry about they're safety. If someone is going to hurt them, mentality and physically. And they no longer have to worry about things that happens in this cruel world.
So instead of shying away from death, I've decided to embrace it. It's going to occur, whether I'm ready for it or not. And witnessing the death of my grandfather I doubt that I'll ever be ready. One minute he was here and the next he was gone. That experience has definitely opened my eyes. Changing the way I look at life and the people around me. Especially my mother. I was never into comic books or cartoons super heroes, ergo I don't know anything about super strengths, powers, who wears the cape and who doesn't, who drives or who flies...Yeah, I'm pretty much clueless. But if I had to choose a person who shows super heroes qualities, that person would be my mother. Because though I don't know too much details about super heroes and what they're capable of doing and what they're not, I do know that they have to be strong and all about the people. My mother is strong, not physically wise though she could push a dresser all by herself, she is mentally strong. She has been through a lot. With her husband, my biological mother, raising me and sisters and brother who are very close in age, dealing with her daughters, taking care of her dying mother and then having to turn around to take care of her ill father. That's a lot for one person. There are times where I sit down and wonder to myself "how the fuck did she do it all." Here I am 19 years old, suppose to be in the best shape of my life and I'm having these attacks, while my mother who is 61 years old, who dealt with so much, seen so much, stands tall. Still managing to smile even though what she has been though is a lifetime of heartbreak...yet I'm the one who is seeing a therapist. Isn't that funny?
I love my mother so much and though my actions probably shows other wise, I appreciate everything she has done for me and my sisters and brother. Everything she is doing. The most kind hearted person you'll ever meet and I mean that. You'll never find another human being quiet like her.