It`s been a while since I have last blogged and I feel bad. I feel bad that it takes a major melt down to inspire me to get writing. I guess in the early days of our tragedy, it seemed natural to write often about how sad we all are. And now, not that our sadness has diminished, we are all just trudging our way through life, making the best of things, and carrying on.
Tonight I have chosen to write not about how much I still miss Daniel, because frankly, you all already know that. Instead I have decided to write about continuing grief, days gone by and things that only people who have experienced epic loss can relate to, and people who haven`t will maybe understand.
I am not the same person I was. What woman cant say that when they compare how they were in there twenties to now. It seems like a trite statement but the fact is, I will never feel normal again.
People often marvel at my strength. I am strong, I know this. I am resilient, I roll with the punches and when life seems not at all worth living, I pick myself up and keep on keeping on. I am in many ways proud of myself for not giving up. I take great stock in knowing that because I was a good parent before we lost Daniel, that I continue to strive to raise well adjusted children. I acknowledge that I am not perfect, I am deeply flawed in many areas. Some I can help and some I can not. In light of recent facebook posts about anxiety disorders, I am here to admit that I have suffered in silence for many years from chronic anxiety. I can`t help it, it affects my every day and losing Daniel sure didn`t help.
This time of year is especially hard. This coming Sunday marks 18 years since I found Daniel`s brother in his crib that fateful day. Without going into all the details, (I think I have blogged about it in the past), the day is forever etched in my memory, with my toddler Daniel by my side. This day, February 17th, is two weeks exactly from Kristian`s birthday so needless to say, it`s just a hard time for me. I dread the day, it haunts me. Much like August 3rd. I can tell you that the anticipation is far worse than the actual day itself. It is impossible for me to get through without the constant aching heart...over and above all the other things that go on, because unfortunately, life keeps on going even when my mind and heart are living in the past.
Tonight specifically, after struggling for the last couple of weeks not managing my anxiety as much as I would like, having begun a new direction with my career, having allowed myself to feel good feelings that I haven`t felt in ages....I lost it. I went to my room and cried uncontrollably for hours. Part way through my solo meltdown my sister in law Jennifer called me. For those of you who don`t know my love for Jennifer, know this now. She is my family, she holds my heart and she is easily one of my best friends. We are attached in some unexplainable cosmic way, that even though we had made plans to talk, she knew exactly when to call. What`s wrong, she asked. My response went something like this...I don`t know. Everything and nothing specific. I miss my boys. I miss Daniel. I can`t believe he`s gone I just want him to come home. How could this happen. I think I am crazy. I can`t handle normal situations. I don`t want this anymore. Why is this so hard. Sorry Jennifer, I didn`t mean to cry. I want my old life back, the life that didn`t know what it was like to hurt so much. I am sorry, I will stop. I shouldn`t cry...on and on. Thankfully she knows I am not crazy. And although she doesn`t pretend to know all the answers, she had a lot of really amazing things to say. She shared with me that she has started reading an amazing new book called Transcending Loss by Ashley Davis Bush. She read me excerpts of it and shared some really great analogies with me. Which brings me to what I am trying to say tonight.
As the book reads, it says exactly the truth of how I feel. I am never going to be the same person I once was. Having experienced such life altering tragedy, not once but twice, I now have three specific parts to my life. Before the baby died, after the baby died and after I lost Daniel. They are, without a word of a lie, how I remember certain parts of what has made me, me. People who know me well definitely hear me say...just before I lost Daniel....or....before I lost the baby etc. I am a life of sections, whether I like it or not. I punish myself for being happy, I worry people think I have forgotten, I have not a lot of room in my broken heart for added feelings, good or bad. And I suffer for it. My future will suffer for it. My newly formed friendships present and future, will suffer for it. For this very minute, as I scan the last few months, I see a girl going through the motions of life. I am often vacant, not always present in the moment, but always with a brave face. And when the going get tough....I cry. I mourn not only the loss of innocence, remembering all the good times when I hadn`t had to bury my children, but I also mourn the great sadness that envelopes me, thinking of how my heart is so sore, it can`t take much more than coasting through life as it is right now. Jennifer explained it to me like this.
Imagine being on an airplane. You take off on a journey scared and nervous. You hit rain, thunder, lightning and turbulence. As you grip the armrest it crosses your mind endlessly whether you`re going to make it. You battle through the darkness, the storm and suddenly, you rise above the awfulness and you hit the blue skies. You look out the window and you see the storm underneath you. You know it`s there and you don`t want to go back in. Its sunny and smooth above it. It doesn`t mean you wont have to travel the storm again. Turbulence and darkness are a part of the journey but for now, you`re above it.
I really liked that description and it is exactly how this journey of grief has been. People who have experienced great loss can, when not being overwhelmed by anxiety, transcend the storm and float in the blue skies. We can give ourselves the permission to be happy. It doesn`t mean that we have forgotten our loved ones. It only means that we have adapted to the NEW normal and we press on. Those blue skies are me coasting.
For those of you who know me or know others who have gone through unimaginable loss, thank you for your patience and understanding. For those of you who still suffer in silence the daily struggles with anxiety or depression, please know you`re not alone. And specifically to those people who share my life, thank you for rallying me through the crazy, dark, scary days....I will bounce back. I will laugh and giggle. And I will be brave .
Stace
http://www.amazon.ca/Transcending-Loss-Ashley-Davis-Bush/dp/042515775X
http://www.cmha.ca/mental-health/understanding-mental-illness/anxiety-disorders/
