Today I
want to die. Before you freak out and call for the straight-jacket or write and
tell me I need medication, let me finish. I'm not suicidal nor do I have any
plans for now or in the future to hurt myself. I just don't want to be here
anymore. I would most prefer mass rapture that way no one would have to feel
the pain of loss, but really I don't care, I just want to see Jake. It has been
exactly 51 weeks since I was last able to hug my kid. It has been 360 days
since I heard him say "I love you Mom." I know exactly where he
is, I just can't get there without dying, so I want to die. I realize
that is not currently the best or valid option. I REALLY do want to live, if
not for myself, for my other boys, it's just the missing him hurts really,
really badly today.
I was
right, fog-brain has returned. Panic attacks have reared their ugly head once
more. The horrific wails of a broken heart once again keep me awake at night
and I'm struggling not to go off on everyone who crosses my path. I'm irritated
and angry. I feel horribly alone and empty. Experience has shown me that
this will not last. We are truly, incredibly designed by God to withstand more
than anyone could fathom. Our brains absorb the trauma and although permanently
changed, healing prevails. Jake's favorite Bible verse is "I praise
you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made," and we are! I am amazed
every day at what we have accomplished in a year, when 51 weeks ago I could barely
fathom how we would make it one week.
The
horrible reality is that this will never end. I will never get over losing Jake
and every year will present new challenges. 2015 was the year of firsts without
him. 2016 will be Zach turning 15 and God willing, living out that entire year,
completing things his brother was not able to. Ben and Nate will continue on in
Jake and Zach's footsteps and 2016 will likely be the year when all my boys
will be taller than me. Friends will have birthdays and my would-be 16,
going on 17 year old will not be there to see junior year and Prom or college
visits. The weight of all that is too difficult, so instead I just breathe and
look at my cluttered living room and wrestle with the thought of cleaning or
just going back to bed...
This next
week is just going to suck. Like a toddler, I want to stomp my feet and
throw a fit, but that won't keep the days from coming. So instead, like Dory, I'll just
keep swimming. Doo-do-do-do-doo-doot-doot...and vacuum, maybe
It's funny that you mention vacuuming as I can completely understand it's therapeutic value. It's noise can blot out the outside world and give your mind some numbing peace; the physical action of pushing it around the room like you are pushing away the problems that are eating at you and making room for your very breath; the immediate results that are so gratifying of your efforts where you actually feel that you are accomplishing something. My heart aches for you and your family in this past year of getting by. I saw a card the other day that touched me...may your memories be greater than your sorrows. You are blessed to have memories to cherish in spite of being robbed of creating more. Please continue to write as you heal more than yourself with your powerful and heartfelt words. Thank you -
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