Tag: pain

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 😉

Goodbye 2018

I decided to pick a word for 2018, as a popular trend encourages one to do.

~ through ~ was the word I picked

2018 is on it’s last days, and 2019 is on the horizon. Yes, it looks like I will make it “through”. Not pretty, not flawless, not smooth sailing at all! Sometimes walking, at times crawling, or should I say, “dragging”? And many times barely breathing.

The hodgepodge of emotions is…well…scrambled, with no rhyme or reason. Normalcy is a figment of my imagination. Making sense of it all, can create a senseless existence. Acceptance, surrender…acceptance, surrender…on repeat.

“Bittersweet” – a word that continues to be made clearer in my foggy mind. The mixture of emotions that, seemingly, do not mix. The joy of dancing under the stars with my son, along with the ache of not having my daughter. The laughter while sharing a meal, as the tears flow remembering her favorite food. Christmas filled with wonder, as we sit in front of a headstone.

Phrases like, “I could never…” “I’ve always done it like…”, and so on, are completely obliterated from my vocabulary. Because, guess what?! My plan, my agenda…the “I did it my way”, well is just creating more chaos, in my already scrambled brain. Rethinking. Regrouping. Reevaluating.

Walking into a therapist office because my “doctor made me do it”, and fighting every urge in me to run the other way. An inner fight with stigma, with the semblance of weakness, with condemning voices.

Wanting to explain my every action or non-action. Hearing judgment, disappointment, disillusionment.

Being vulnerable, transparent, frail, needy…against every fiber that says, “you got this!” Cause, being weak and needy, is just not passé.

Will I pick a word for 2019? Not sure, yet. Would you pick a word?

AND, so, we say goodbye to another year. What will this coming year bring? Only God knows. All, I know is that I just have to get through this moment in time. The rest is out of my hands.

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😥💔

🔔Jingle🔔

Every jingle, every joyful song…salt to an open wound

stinging…burning…searing pain

Is this the point? Is this the purpose? No…not really

Just go with it! Just enjoy it! ~~~ easy for you to say

How do I convince my mind to think differently?

How do I tell my heart not to feel?

How do I “go with it” without falling apart?

Am I the only one feeling this?

Does everyone “really” enjoy this?

Is this, too, a Masquerade?

Stones

Stones come in many shapes and sizes. Some might be the shape of a heart, so they say. I had a friend that collected “heart-shaped-stones”. To be honest, some had absolutely no shape, but she swore they looked like a heart.

Stones can be rare and expensive; some simply used to hold something up. Who hasn’t etched their name on one or two? Who hasn’t received a stone from a child as a token of a valuable find?

I remember my brother’s grave-stone being placed. His picture was on it. As a young girl, I wasn’t really sure what I was feeling. The “first” big loss in our family…how to handle it? My voice had been muffled already, so I didn’t dare put my two-cents in the matter. Besides, his wife was making all the decisions in a way that spoke louder than words.

Now, it was me, making decisions…fast, furious, with no time to think; with every part of my being desiring to be far, far away from this place. BUT, the burial needed to take place AND the proper “embellishments” had to be ordered. The “cash-register” ringing, ringing, ringing. Every little detail had a price. Goodness, how taxing to an already heinous journey. In the fog of it all, one makes the best decisions attempting to not listen to the sales-pitches and the playing of ones emotions.

Nobody told me that a flat stone would be open to tractor tracks and scrapes. Nobody told me that it would be covered in dirt and mud, more often than I can to think. Nobody told me that the passing of time would make it sink deeper and deeper. NOBODY told me that the sight of this would make my heart hurt, if it were possible, even more than it already hurt.

Somewhere along the way, I decided that Angie’s flat grave-stone had to change. My already taxed emotions just couldn’t handle digging it out, one more time. We looked into a different kind of stone. “Well, of course we can change it – AT A PRICE!” was the response.

Yesterday, her new above-ground-stone was placed! AND this one has a picture on it.

Things that I never thought would be part of my life, are. Things that I would have never thought would bother me, do. Things that I never thought would make it a little easier, exist.

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!