It's not okay again today...

No, I’m still not okay, but thanks for asking.  For the most part I’m doing really well.  I have weeks, sometimes months when I go about my days without tears or any outward sign of grief, but there are still bad days here and there.  The thing is though that when those bad days come they are really really bad.  In a instant I’m back in a hospital waiting room, the quiet hum of a small room with a vending machine and a few small tables,  a young doctor staring back at me with the unspoken words, “I’m so sorry” written into her expression so clearly there was no need to put voice to the words.  The details of the day plays over in my mind and my heart gives way to the emotions that follow.  Those same raw feelings with the same intensity that I experienced them in those first moments.  I have noticed over the last 2 and a half years that stuffing them or ignoring them doesn’t work well for me for any length of time.  Ignoring the intense grief and holding back and stuffing the tears only delays the visceral response that must ultimately be dealt with.  I’ve learned, also, over the last 2 and a half years that most other people don’t understand that visceral response at all.  It’s too raw, too real for them to think about let alone witness.  As a result those of us who grieve do so alone…in the car, the shower, a bathroom stall, into our pillow, anywhere where our raw, horrific pain won’t be seen by others.  Chest convulsing with sobs, face contorted with deep sadness, tears soaking any fabric available, and congestion filling nose, sinuses and ears. It’s hard to breathe and its utterly exhausting, but it must be done.  At least that’s my experience.  If I hold it in too long I feel sick, cranky and irritable.  It becomes hard to focus or to get anything done and just about anything over my normal routine makes me overwhelmed. So I’ve learned to hold it in until there is an “appropriate” time to let it all out, but also to not wait too long before I allow my self the time.

It’s been a hard couple days.  Part of it is kids getting ready to go back to school.  I’ve noticed that to be a hard event each year since Jake has gone.  It stirs up the “what would he be doing now” thoughts.  This year his classmates are beginning their senior year.  I’m so proud of them.  I’m so excited to see what the future has in store for them, his closest friends are so very precious to me.  It’s just also painful…for all of us.

Work has also been insane.  I love what I do, I like the people I work with, but we’ve been short staffed all summer and I’ve been working 50-60 hour work-weeks for too long.  I’m not handling the busyness well and the frantic pace doesn’t leave much time for grieving.

And then a phone call yesterday afternoon finished me off…  Life Gift called to say one of the recipients of Jake’s organ donation wrote us a letter. As with everything it’s bittersweet.  I’m grateful for a very sweet letter, but it stirred up a lot of emotion.

So today I’m sitting here on the couch writing when I should be working, tear-stained and exhausted not wanting to do anything but lay here.  According to my internal dialogue of the fictional “ people who just don’t get it”, I need to get up and go help train the new nurse that’s joined our team at work, but I don’t want to.  I’ll have to go eventually today. I’ll most likely put on some make-up, stuff my emotions for the afternoon, smile and get done what is absolutely necessary, but that will be about it.  No, I’m still not okay.  Some days, weeks and months are really, really good but then…well, then its not again.