crazy.

I feel crazy.  I often wonder if I need to be on meds.

Grief can make you feel like you are absolutely losing your mind.

I know that I am my hardest critic, and when it comes to grief, that hasn't changed.  I feel like I should be feeling better than I actually do.  Sometimes I think I am stuck, and I can't figure out what I need to do get better.  Do I need more time?  Or is this what my life is now?  What is the truth? 

Grief is messy.  That's one truth.

I know I need to cut myself some slack, and give myself grace when it comes to feeling like I am stuck in my grief.  I just want to make sure I do things the right way, and there is no right way.  I want to check grief off my list.

I had a great conversation this weekend, and I was reminded that I am the one in control of my behaviors.  I've been chewing on this thought for the past few days.  I am in control of how I react to the actions before me.  And this is true with my journey with Jonathan.  But part of me can't fully wrap my mind around the truth that I am in control of all my behaviors.  The heart and the mind don't always line up.  I can tell myself the truth, and know something, but sometimes I feel like my heart just aches, the pain takes over, and the emotions are out of control.  I'm human.

I do want to be happier...most of the time.  I know this sounds awful, but there is a part of me that almost clings to the pain because it's part of the connection I have with Jonathan.  Oh, I hear how messed up that sounds.  With each passing day, it just reminds me that it is longer and longer since I last held him in my arms.  I know that Jonathan isn't the pain, but it's still a connection.

Granted, the flip side is that with each day, we are closer to eternity, where we will be together forever.  

See, that's where the craziness comes to play.  So many thoughts bombard me, contradicting themselves.

Another thing I took away from the weekend conversation is that I can choose to be happy.   I can make decisions to help me become happier.  It could be taking a spin class, or it could be getting coffee with some friends, or it could be knowing my own limits and saying "no" to a gathering.  

I want to feel better, but part of me wonders what I am waiting for.  Is this it?  Is what I feel on a daily basis the new-normal?  If it is, then perhaps I need to pull myself up and power through.  

Grief is messy and sucks.

it's complicated

My relationship with God is interesting and complicated.

I definitely feel like it's changed over the past 19 months. 

Even though I feel like my relationship changes, He is constantly the same.

As previously mentioned, I have been angry and I am angry with God.  My anger stems from me feeling like He let me down with Jonathan dying.  I know that He could have saved him and given us a miracle.  But that isn't what happened.  I struggle with finding joy in Him allowing my son to die.  I know that God has been and is 100% in control, but that doesn't take the pain away.  I'm still human.  I'm still a hurting mom. 

But that doesn't mean that I am not comforted by Him or that I don't see His hand in things.  His strength is the ONLY thing that has helped me to survive.  He is my HOPE (Jer. 29:11).

I have also struggled with doing the "right" thing and have a consistent quiet time with God.  If I'm a "good, little Christian girl," I will have a daily quiet time.  I know that I am not saved by works, but part of me feels like I need to do this still.  It's a daily task I need to check off my list.  But let me be honest.  I actually read my Bible for the first time this week in the last 19 months...and that is a hard sentence to type out and admit. 

One main reason I didn't open my Bible is because it hurt too much.  I am already dealing with my grief in the normal activities of life, but to choose to sit in silence and sit in my pain was too much to handle.  I have been in survival mode, and I honestly don't think I could handle more pain.  I didn't want to go there.

I knew (and know) that God is faithful.  When I think of my relationship with God, I picture Him patiently sitting next to me just waiting for me.  I know He is there.  He's just been waiting on me. 

We used to sing a song in youth group called: "If I Could Just Sit With You" -- and this is exactly how I feel my relationship with God is like.  Here's the chorus:

"If I could just sit with You a while, if You could just hold me
Nothing could touch me though I'm wounded, though I die
If I could just sit with You a while, I need You to hold me
Moment by moment, 'till forever passes by"

I'm wounded, and He's just sitting here with me.  He's not going anywhere, and that's okay.  He's just waiting on me as I'm healing. 

Now that I have cracked open my Bible, I am not saying that I've finally healed....but I am slowly making progress.  I don't think I will ever be 100% healed from losing Jonathan, but I am trying to figure out my new normal.  God is faithful as I figure this out, and He'll continue to show me His plans for me.  I can't wait to see how He plans to use Jonathan's story.  I've been able to see glimpses here and there of Him already using my son, and that brings me so much joy. 

God is faithful.  He has been and will continue to sit with me as I continue on my path of grief.

sorry, not sorry

I don't like people.

Okay, not really, but sometimes it feels like this. 

Even before everything with Jonathan, I was an introvert. I am truly a homebody.  I could be perfectly content with not seeing anyone for a day, a few days, a week....okay, perhaps not a week, but maybe. 

In addition to being an introvert, I apologize a lot.  I have noticed that it's second nature for me to apologize a lot for things I don't need to apologize for.  I'm the person who has apologized to a stranger who bumped into me at the grocery store.

One thing I've realized over this past year is that life is too short.  Because of this, I am learning to find my voice and be okay with actually letting people know my opinion.  I'm not a pushover, but I am a people pleaser.  I like people to be happy.  And I've trained my mind to think that people will be happy if they always hear what they want.  But in the end, it's really not fair to them or to me. 

I am becoming okay with telling people no and not apologizing for it.  This is okay.  It's okay to tell people the truth.  Now, I'm not going to be rude or mean.  I need to tell the truth in love.  There's a difference between being blunt and truthful.   

I have learned with my new found honesty that if I don't want to go to a social gathering because I'm in a funk or because it will be tough with all the babies and baby-talk, I don't have to go and I don't have to apologize for it.  Sorry, not sorry.

One complicated thing while grieving is friendships.  People will surprise you because some friendships actually won't there for you, and then there are people who you hardly know that become some of your best friends while you grieve.  So on top of grieving your loss, you sometimes end up grieving the loss of friendships. 

Friendships change anyway, but I think grief just adds complication...which grief is good at doing in any situation.  We aren't all going to be best friends, and we have to be okay with that. 

I've found that mothers who have had child-loss(es) and I just have this ultimate and unfortunate bond.  For example, I have a friend who I have never met face to face that actually knows my heart and pain better than friendships I've had for years. 

Life can be complicated, but navigating through life while grieving is a whole new ball game.  I'm learning a lot on this journey, and I am feel like I am becoming a better me through it all...or at least trying to become a better me.  Grief strips away so many filters and leave you with the nitty-gritty.  I feel like there is nothing to hide behind while grieving.  It leaves you raw, and I don't have to apologize for it.