My mom died this week.

She was suffering from cancer for the last few years, and no one could say exactly what type it was or even how to properly cure it, with pills or anything else, so it wouldn't grow. It was basically like going to a clinic with an open wound on your leg, and hearing doctor saying «Wow, yes, that's a leg. No idea what to do with it tho». She was a riddle for all of the doctors in Moscow, for every clinic, no matter how much money we wasted to this botomless pit.
Plus, she was suffering from a really deep, black, unbearable depression. We're the same here — I have depression too, on top of my other mental issues. I forced her to go to the various specialists, tried so many things to make her life easier, attempt after attempt. All in vane. I mean, it's not like she didn't enjoy some little things here and there, all the surprises and gifts, but it wasn't really helpful, to say the least. I'm not a psychiatrist, there wasn't much I can do but to find her one. So I did, as I did with her cancer.
But I found out just a few days ago that she skipped all of the appointments, she wasn't even taking her medications. I had no idea at the moment — I myself was at a mental facility, basically locked up, without phone, internet, any ways to communicate with the outer world. And, one morning, my doc asked me to go to her cabinet. «I have some news for you», she said. «You wouldn't like it».
My mom commited suicide. When I was away, unable to reach her in any way, she finally did what she was yearning for so long — our family history contains too many of her suicide attempts, where I was the only one who wanted, could and have prevented them. At the same fucking moment I turned away to deal with my own problems, she finally did it. She was lying dead in her room for days, until one of my friend got worried and decided to make a visit. If it weren't them, no one was going to find her until my return from mental hospital. Besides me, she had almost no one to care about her — I doubt her «friends» will even make it to the funeral, which I have to arrange now.

Why do I wrote this? Dunno. Just to vent, maybe. I feel so shitty and useless, at the end, I couldn't make it right for her. I was not helpful enough. She haven't even left a note or something.
Hope she found her peace at least.

So, well, if you've been wondering why do I keep dissappearing like this, that's why. My life has been a mess for so long, and now it feels like I'm at the worst part of it. Besides taking care of everything now, paying bills, taking care of what's left of my life, I can't even rest properly or do something useful — can't hold back tears, can't breathe. I can barely afford my own medications now, 'cause I just can't work now. All of my drawings look so shitty when I can actually see what I draw. I can't even enjoy the process anymore. Maybe that's how my mom has been feeling for her last days. Months. There is just no way for me to find out about it now.

I don't know how to fucking live this life anymore. Nothing helps and everything is getting worse and worse. Hopefully, one day the sky will clear and I'll be able to see the sun again, but for now I need to take a big breath and found out what am I going to do. I really hope we'll see each other soon, but... well, once again, I just don't know. I promise to do the raffle eventually, that's for sure, but I simply can't right now. So, no new commissions either for a while.

If you for some reason decided to read this mess, I hope you will have a good day. Better than my last few.

See you later?