Recently I downloaded a book on grief with a money back guarantee. Hmmm. Exactly what is included in the guarantee? That after reading this book, I would be cured of grieving my daughter? This book allowed me two years to grieve the loss of my child and then I was instructed to put away any shrine I had created in her memory and move on. Clearly, I am requesting my money back…
Below is my recent post which I submitted to The HuffPost. When I was notified that it had been published yesterday and I re-read my words, it hit me how depressed I am now.
There are always crossroads in life where we have to make a decision and this is not the first time since the sudden death of Amy that I feel a nudge to go in a different direction. While I am still grieving Amy, I am worn out from the fight to survive and growing weary from trying to convince others how devastating it is to live without my child.
It was so much easier feeling pissed off at those who misunderstood me and insisted I should be engaging in life again as if I still had the same life tools as I possessed before that awful day. Now, I am just depressed the way life turned out and that I have lost control over my ability to be happy or should I clarify that I do not possess the same opportunity for happiness as someone who has not lost a child. That is a simple fact.
I have been told that Amy’s death had nothing to do with me — that “it was just her time” and all of my questions will be answered some day. Regardless if that is indeed true, it sure feels as though this was done to me. It is a punishment to live without my child. I thought I was doing a great job as her mother. If love could have saved her, she would still be here.
Today I confessed to another grieving Mom friend that I exist in two emotions. Sad or numb. Is numb my new word for happy? Numb is certainly easier to manage than sad and she readily agreed she felt the same way most of the time.
The crossroad where I find myself now is one where I try to use my limited energy to find more glimmers of light. I have been hibernating for many months now and it has not been helpful yet I know it was necessary.
Why do I continue to waste my energy writing my heart? This is not a pity party — just an honest assessment of where I am now — living a painful complicated life I did not choose while fumbling in the dark searching for more light.
Always remembering Amy.