Tag: grief

Grief Group

She decided it was time. One day short of twenty-one months. Tic-Toc, Tic-Toc…can you hear time churning? Thankful for a peaceful commute, and a settled mind focusing on navigating directions. It’s here! Deep breath, prayer…more breathing…let’s go!

Two women buzzing around. Do they see me? No smile, no hello…wait, am I at The Writer’s Club? Deep breath…just stay; fight the urge to run out. “Oh, wait, another women just arrived. She’s too bubbly to be here”, was her immediate thought. This is so painfully awkward. Being an Introvert makes the silence worse. And, so began a grueling two hour ordeal…

“What am I trying to prove? Who am I trying to impress? Why put myself in a torturous situation? Do I not hurt enough? How is it that my mindset is so skewed, so jumbled? I HATE THIS!!!”, and so went an onslaught of chaotic waves of thought, upon thought, upon thought.

There were times I thought, “Yes, the Plastic Faces are coming off!” NOT! Only a glimpse was allowed before the masks were securely fasten, back into place…let’s continue the masquerade.

“Why? What are we afraid of? Is reality so difficult, I’d rather live a lie? Do I not want to be open and vulnerable because of fear? Fear of judgment; fear of being misunderstood; fear of what?”, waves and waves of punches of the mind.

Someone decides to vomit; to splatter all she has been holding onto; to open the gates of her mind in a relentless way. The vent up guilt, trauma flowing. The wrestling with what she thought she knew, which pales in comparison to what is happening to her day after day. She doesn’t shut up! She keeps going! Only to get cliches and pat answers. GRRRR!!!

As I am in my chair, shaking uncontrollably! Being horribly triggered by the rawness of this woman. “Run! Go! Escape! Make her shut up! Why is she saying that? I can’t hear this anymore!”, thoughts that came into the spiraling mind. With the added guilt of not being compassionate enough. However, how do I help her out when I’m in my own spiral?

Home now. “How did I get home? What happened?” Unceasing crying and screaming with tumultuous spasms ensue. Beating myself up for not knowing better; for going, too soon; for not being in control.

Finally safe, curled up in a ball…spaced out, exhausted…sleep is welcomed. BUT the nightmares and images assailed my already beat-up soul. And, so, goes my journey with grief…an unwelcomed companion.

Yeah, I’m thinking it wasn’t time – for this :-\

The Day After

Made it to the other side. The fog has cleared. The tightness released. Now the Grief Unchained and the Unfiltered thoughts are released…brace yourself!

My God has not shrunk. My faith has not been diminished. In fact my faith is what keeps me from ending it all; from escaping this world that seems to be vent on adding vinegar to my wound.

You telling me that Angie is on your heart and mind, doesn’t diminish my pain and envy that you are celebrating your daughter’s special day. Do I always have to take the high road? Do I always have to think nice happy thoughts? Can you allow me to be real and honest about my sorrow and grief? Does it always have to be kosher?

So there’s a timeline? But it has already been x-amount-of-days! Oh, excuse me, I didn’t realize that I’m not on your timetable. I didn’t realize that my grief had an expiration date. Don’t you know that one second without my daughter is an eternity? Don’t you know that until she’s in my arms, I will ache to hold her? Don’t rush me! Don’t patronize me!

You can’t handle my “thoughts”. The continual horrid movie playing, nonstop – unrelenting. My daughter wasting away, until she’s only skin and bones. My daughter vomiting her insides. My daughter looking at Mommie, asking for help. My daughter crying, saying she doesn’t want to die. AND, I, unable to grant her wish. That body bag! That casket! That deep hole!

My Reality! My Journey!

Just another day in the life of a grieving mother😢💔

Losses

Today you are having breakfast with your daughter,

while I eat alone with only memories of mine.

Today you will talk & pray & help your daughter with her wedding attire,

while that desire sharply stings in my empty arms.

Today you will kiss your daughter as you enter the sanctuary to witness her vows,

while I envy the sound of that voice.

Today will be a fairy-tale wedding with sights of flowing gown and veil,

while the sight of a white casket lingers in my eyes.

Yes, it is a joyful day – for you!

As I am sorely reminded and grieve what will never be – for me!

Unpredictable Waves

~ wave after ~ wave ~ after wave

how to prepare? how to brace?

unpredictable, unseen, unexpected

laid out, crumbled…yet, fighting to breathe

screaming, punching, tearing at my flesh

numb yet fully engaged…quiet yet horribly loud

the spirals that comes from nowhere

the feelings that are everywhere

once again, it hits…AND there’s nothing to do, but…

Just Breathe…

The Lego Effect

Have you ever stepped on a Lego? Walking into a room, minding your own business, when WAMMO! The pain, the agony, jerk, the bouncing on one leg…did I mention the pain?

Yup, I’ve hit a wall! I’ve “stepped” on a gazillion legos. Grief is such an intricate beast.

This month has been filled with Baby Showers, Bridal Showers, Birth Announcements, Wedding Invitations, and on and on. I have been purposeful about making decisions to attend or not to attend without feeling guilty or like I “have-to-be-there” (therapy is helping). Can I just pat myself on the back, cause, I believe I’ve done well, thank you!

BUT it hit! And, it hit hard! Horrid panic/anxiety attack. Anger. Screaming. Stomach knots. Difficulty breathing.

I’ll never see my daughter in a wedding dress…I’ll never hold her child….I’ll never celebrate with her a birth announcement….I’ll never…I’ll never…I’ll never…SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!

~ Sigh ~

When my brain quiets down, I KNOW my daughter is not missing out on anything. She is whole and complete. I have peace and assurance that I will hold her in my arms again. Then, and only then, will this assault of my mind and emotions will be over.

In the meantime, I hunker down and allow the waves to come. I don’t fight my feelings and emotions or condemn myself for feeling this way. I’m learning to ride them out. And, as I step on them “legos”, I’ll jump and scream and writhe in pain. It won’t be forever, cause there’s no legos in heaven 😉

Grief Unchained

Have you ever read something or been told something, so you think “you know” and are “prepared“? (OMG, this word does NOT belong next to or in the vicinity of grief!!!) — Yeah, no creative writing going on around here.

What am I talking about? I’m talking about all the information that is out there regarding “the first year after losing a loved one”. First…everything!

My first Christmas without my daughter was a total BLUR! However, I was “prepared” for “it” to be the worst. AND, let me tell you, I attempted “everything” I had read or been advised to do in order to “minimize” and get through the pain. I even attempted to “be-other-centered” so as to not “turn-in-to-myself”(other peoples words, not mine). Oh, the going caroling at the senior center; the visiting shut-ins and singing songs; the hospitality. What was I thinking?!?!?! Let me tell you, the “pleasing-people-chart” was filled with stars and happy faces. However, I was dying inside. But, true to myself (haha!), I kept this up until I collapsed. Which landed me at my doctors office; which landed me in the ER; which landed me in therapy.

In one of my many talks with My Grieving Friend she said to me, “Grief demands our attention. You cannot ignore it. It will show up whether you like it or not. You might as well pay attention to it and deal with it in a healthy manner.” Now, did I think I was ignoring my grief? Absolutely not! I was just trying to put one foot in front of the other (and, pleasing people while I was at it). My physical body knew otherwise, and hence its total shut down.

Sitting here today – my second Christmas without my daughter – the anesthesia completely gone…fully awake…there isn’t a substance or activity in this world that will take away the pain or even remotely minimize it!

MY DAUGHTER IS NEVER WALKING THROUGH THE DOOR

MY DAUGHTER IS NEVER – ETC., ETC., ETC.,

This side of heaven “it” will never be ok. I’m a Scrooge! I’m a Grinch! If, I could hibernate until all the joyful-sounds were over, I would. However, I know that when I come out of hibernation, the pain will still be there😥💔

Senseless

Is everything business? Is nothing sacred? That proverbial “used-sales-man” pitch. They sell you a Lamborghini while you drive off in a lemon. My stomach turns, I get angry, my heart aches even more.

Just a thought: Maybe, just maybe…NO SERIOUSLY…”sales-people” at funeral homes and cemeteries need to be better trained on how to handle grieving loved ones (material for another post).

The cemetery – when one is being taken on a “tour” to pick out the “best-spot” for your loved ones resting place (this is just wrong!), it almost seems like it’s a tour of a resort with lots of sales pitches. Gosh-darnit, I HATE IT! It was the day after my daughter took her last breath. All I remember is a buzzing sound in my head and just having to get this done…IT had to get done. Could it had been handled better? I think so!

The cemetery’s website showcases beautiful manicured grounds, while the reality is far, far from it. Was this Photoshop or taken somewhere else? Fake advertising!

I have been “assaulted” with sights that hurt me deeply! Tractor tracts so deep that I wondered if they did wheelies on my daughters site. A deep, deep hole as her site was sinking (which I reported and reported and was told it would be fixed. However, they took so long we ended up fixing it ourselves because I could not stand the site of this anymore). Flowers and decorations thrown away. And, yesterday, her stone was completely covered with mud and her decorations where cast aside.

Am I petty? Am I overly sensitive? I say NOT!

I’ve been so upset that I’ve thought of taking a shovel, digging her out and bringing her home. YES!!!!!!!! Kinda, like when you take your kid home cause that’s the only way to protect them. Yes, I sound like a lunatic! At times, I scare myself. But this is my reality. This is what I live with. I believe her remains don’t feel any of this BS, but this Momma’s whole being trembles at such horrific sights. The grave is horrid enough without all this muck!

Venting…Vomiting…BEING REAL…grrrrrrrrrrr!