Caution: not showing my best side today…
Wikipedia describes grief this way:
Grief is a multifaceted response to loss, particularly to the loss of someone or something to which a bond was formed. Although conventionally focused on the emotional response to loss, it also has physical, cognitive, behavioral, social, spiritual, and philosophical dimensions. While the terms are often used interchangeably, bereavement refers to the state of loss, and grief is the reaction to loss.
That partial definition does not begin to describe the devastating pain I have been experiencing as I travel through this last month of my first year without Amy. However, it does accurately describe how it affects every fiber of my life. I remember when we turned the calendar to January 1, 2014. It hit me harder than the holidays because this was a new year and Amy was not here.
Despite my well planned attempts to get through another holiday (Fourth of July) without Amy, nothing I did worked to ease the pain. In fact, it may have been easier had I chosen to stay in bed and pull the covers over my head until July 5. It was a horrible day. Yet, I kept pushing myself through so many activities, all while “the truth” was pulsating inside of me.
My definition of grief is that it’s a poison that needs to be released. The poison is the reality as your heart realizes that someone you love is gone from this world as you know it. In my case, someone I loved who was not supposed to die before me. Someone who I treasured and whom I feel privileged to have as my child. Someone who called me Mom and who looked to me to make it all better.
Maybe I need to allow myself to wallow in self pity this last month instead of trying to juggle so much and hold myself together to the point where I feel like I am going to snap. Maybe it’s okay to really believe that life sucks now and stop trying to convince myself I should be counting my blessings instead. And just maybe it’s okay to want to scream and shout and shake my fist at the world because I have to live in it without one of my children! I am so sick of apologizing for unplanned tears or for how I truly feel since Devastation Day. Tired of pretending so those among me won’t be uncomfortable.
I am worn out from being brave. I hate what losing my daughter has done to my life. My kids do not read my blog or even know I write this so I am not hurting them by admitting that truth. I do everything in my power to be as strong as possible for them even though I am totally exhausted from this battle. I am worn out from searching for ways to comfort myself into believing I can find peace again in a world without Amy.
Wouldn’t it be nice if I was a beacon of hope for all and told others I am just fine on the other side of losing my kid, but I am not fine! Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I was telling everyone that God had a plan for Amy and I will just trust Him and carry on business as usual until it’s my time?!
Well, today, from where I am standing, that is not how I feel. I feel abandoned by the very God I prayed to every night to watch over my kids. I may not always feel this way, but today, at this moment, I do feel abandoned and no lectures required.
More than one person has admitted they don’t know how my husband and I are surviving without Amy. Well, for the record, it’s a nightmare. We do the very best we can but nothing takes away the void in our family.
Grief sucks. But I get it. And this is just another attempt at releasing the poison. Maybe it’s the poison talking today. Just maybe I don’t want a pep talk because today I just want to wallow and miss my daughter. And maybe I will feel better tomorrow. That’s another way grief works. Just when you feel you cannot take one more minute, somehow you survive another day.
Always remembering my Amy and longing for the world when she was in it…