Healing Grief: A Mothers Story
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This morning I screamed myself hoarse, cried myself dry, and have now moved into numb. My therapists have repeatedly asked me how I see my life in the future. This is what I see: each day filled with tears; an underlining pain regardless of the happiness of a moment; a perpetual numbness that keeps me detached from everything around me; a life I breathe through but do little more.
Another wedding anniversary without a sense of happiness. Another marking of a year without Melinda. A reminder of a wedding day she never had. I have many reasons to dread May, but I will face it like I have everything else the last 2 years, numb and alone. The last several days have been hard, harder than the months before.
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I just know that my mind is racing constantly with what should be, what I want to be, and with overwhelming pain. How is that fucking possible??!!!! How can my child be dead for almost 2 years and the world keep turning? For nearly 2 years I have been trying to redefine myself and my life with little success. Last week I realized I have to redefine so much more. It helps us plan for a future, and it helps us define ourselves. This is NOT the case after the loss of a loved one who was so deeply embedded in our hearts and in daily life.
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This deep of a loss requires redefining myself, my life, my hopes, my future, my relationships, and every fucking word in the English dictionary. And this is the reason that grief can not be timed or rushed. I literally have to redefine practically every word in the dictionary. A chair is no longer a piece of furniture. My chronology has shifted to one single event in my life — the day my daughter died.
My life is now divided into 2 segments.
There was a time when there was hope and joy. Now there is pain and sorrow. Before and after. I feel like the next couple of months are only going to get worse. I still have no idea how I do this. Nothing is clearer or easier.
Now imagine standing in front of that mirror, saying the same thing and knowing that it is your life. A couple of weeks ago, I started seeing a new therapist. The new therapist and I have met twice, and this week will mark the third time. The first two sessions were primarily introductions with the last one ending with a homework assignment for me…the first real step in the cognitive therapy. I must have looked shocked or something because she followed that up with a simple question.
I could out write Tolstoy! How do I, in a handful of sentences, a few paragraphs, convey the brokenness of my heart, my spirit, and my soul? How do I fully explain the pain of not being able to hold her or hear her? Of course I hardly touched on all the levels of complicated pains. As I wrote, I got angry at times. I would have needed volumes then too, but they would have been very different.
I wrote that single page today with so much missing, but I wrote it. Could you confine your greatest pain to one page? For about 19 months, I have sat in a large orange chair across from a psychologist specializing in PTSD and trauma.
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I have had the opportunity to cry, vent, rage, and express feelings too frightening to share with others. Since Christmas, I have been unable to fully pull myself out of a dark haze that has descended on me.
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I had thought that as the days got longer, brighter, I would be able to shake at least some of the depression that has set in. Like with everything else, there was no predicting one day to the next. The last few days have been worse. Although not as frequent, the depth of the grief waves that have been coming is growing. These are all a part of daily life. We have to eat; we need clean clothes; we have bills to pay, but all of those are mere motions, actions I preform.
Last week I met with a new therapist. I will be seeing her weekly for a scheduled session of 12 weeks which will be a more structured approach to making me give a shit about life again. I hold out no hope, have no expectations, but I will go through the motions, attend each session. When I met last with my regular therapist, she asked me if I ever just let loose what was inside me when the feelings arose.
I knew the reason immediately, but putting it into words and making it more tangible is a whole other thing. It is still my preference to NOT be here, and I fear letting myself fully feel the grief that swirls around me. Now I can pull myself out of the waves with a great deal of work and focus, but to simply let it envelope me is frightening.
In what are now my normal days, I can stave off acting on the most horrible of thoughts, but I have now assurance in myself that I can make that same choice when I am fully submerged in pain. And that is the purpose of the new therapy treatment. Like I said, I have no expectations because one belief I am certain of is that my depth of grief and pain is directly in correlation with the depth of my love for Melinda.
I suppose we all wonder if and when things might change for us. The trick of course is to be able to endure the time until then. The idea is that we just need to keep juggling while we travel the bridge of life to reach the other side. Some will say that grief is a part of that journey over the bridge, part of life, and normally I would agree. All of a sudden you are still forced to cross a bridge that sustains pounds, but now you have to juggle 4 boxes weighing more than you ever imagined possible.
And even if you can sustain the motion, inevitably you will end up holding the 10 pound box and a 5 pound box simultaneously which is more than the bridge can hold. As the days pass, a bit more erodes from the bridge.
No days are actually good. How can any day be deemed as good when a portion of it is always spent crying, hurting, and longing? Seller information thrift. Contact seller. Visit store. See other items More See all. Item Information Condition:. Read more. Sign in to check out Check out as guest. The item you've selected was not added to your cart. Add to Watchlist Unwatch. Watch list is full. No returns. Visit eBay's page on international trade. Item location:. Aurora, Illinois, United States. Ships to:. This amount is subject to change until you make payment. For additional information, see the Global Shipping Program terms and conditions - opens in a new window or tab This amount includes applicable customs duties, taxes, brokerage and other fees.
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5 Books About Grief That Helped Me Cope With The Death Of My Mother
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