Just when I thought life couldn't throw anything else at me it most certainly did.

My brain still can't process 3 weeks ago. Then this past Sunday just rubbed salt in the wound. 3 weeks ago, my mother also passed but instinct mode led me to quickly get all of the flames off of her. I burned my hands in the process. They were not optimistic she would live the first couple of days. I saw her the day after the accident when we were allowed, and she said I saved her life. She was worried about my mental health and asked a question that led to me coming up with a promise that her and I would live for one another. She very much agreed. I didn't even recognize her when I walked into that room. She will have 15+ skin surgeries but she is healing and improving very well which has shocked all the staff with how bad her burns are. Then pain meds mess with her mentally and she says things I can't stand to hear. Since then, my aunt, mom's big sister, has triple stepped up and she's always said I was like a son to her, and I considered her my second mom. I've been very close to her my whole life and her and mom were best friends. Just this past Sunday I was dressed and waiting for my aunt to pick me up so we could run into her work on a cardiac surgery unit and then go see mom like the Sunday before. My uncle who was visiting from out of state walked in and I learned my aunt Gerri wasn't picking me up. Instead, she was at the local ICU completely brain dead and never waking up. We went to the hospital and up to the ICU and before entering her room my sister said I had the same room and, on a ventilator, my last stay there. When I first saw her in bed with the ventilator it was like instantly all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. I felt I had taken a quick deep gulp of air in order to live. She had had a massive stroke, and the hemorrhage was too deep and her spinal cord damaged. They said she felt nothing, and it happened in her sleep since she had just lied down. My uncle said at that point her words were slurring and that she had been feeling awful all day. They said had she come to the hospital it still would have happened and nothing could have been done. Nothing could have stopped it had they somehow known even that morning. It felt so good to hold her hand for what turned into 35 minutes. I was getting cool to the touch. They said nothing of my aunt was left but I talked to her anyways and thanked her for giving me so much love and joy my whole life. I asked her to please watch over mom and keep her safe. And to please visit her. It was silly to ask because she was probably already on it. We can't even tell my mom that her big sister and best friend has gone yet. She needs to recover a lot more. Her surgeon said he needs her mind strong right now. I need my mom, my best friend, confidant. The only person who can make me feel better now that my aunt is gone. Holding her hand in the hospital my aunt still gave me that feeling of being safe and that nothing bad could happen with her. She's still with me, I know. But I need one of her strong hugs. She worked on the very first heart transplant in the state. Last week they celebrated their 776th heart transplant surgery. And we know before the harvested that she was set to save three people in need and their families already. She tuned out to be one of only 1% of organ donors that can donate everything. Things had finally reached a steadier pace with mom and visitations. I was starting back on my self -care routine and looking for a new psychiatrist and therapist. Never in an infinite number of years did I see this coming. And there's no one who I can really go to. Yesterday my cousin set the funeral for next Wednesday and I felt even more nauseated than I had all day. I can't bear the idea of the funeral. They feel too finalizing. I told my aunt at the hospital it wasn't a goodbye. Just a I'll see you later." Now I can hardly eat again, and my nerves are a wreck, and my psychiatrist hasn't responded to me in nearly 2 weeks. She would rather have a celebration of life...a party...not a funeral. With the stress of the past 3 weeks, I've lost around 10lbs already according to the clinic. I feel weary. That's one of the best words to use. When my chest expands while breathing, I feel like a bag of wet sand in weighing it back down. I'm physically weaker. Things weren't going well before the accident a few weeks ago and now this. It is beyond overwhelming. I don't know the best way to cope. I use my Christian beliefs, but I need more. Now the daily worry over mom has quadrupled to the point of hysterics.