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.

I'm not okay, and that's okay

I'm not okay, and I have to be okay with that. 

It's a daily battle to figure out my new world.  It's tough and exhausting at times.  One day I feel like I am actually doing okay, and then something out of the blue occurs, and I am brought back to the reality that I'm not okay. 
 
I feel like my grief comes like waves.  Sometimes the waves are just lapping at my ankles, and I am aware that they are there.  Sometimes the waves are huge, and I am knocked on my ass from it's force.  The waves are unpredictable. 

I am not okay, and because of this, I need to take sometime for my heart to heal.  This Wednesday will be my last day at my current job.  I talked to my principal last week about not returning this fall.  This was one of the hardest decisions I've made, but I do feel that this is God's plan for me.  I do not know what the future holds, but I am looking forward to healing my heart.  I know that God will reveal His next plan for me when He's ready.  I am a big planner, so making this decision with zero back-up plans is tough, but it's where I need to be.

I am going to take this "sabbatical" and heal.  I know this is the best choice, but I will miss my wonderful Walker family.  They have been such a huge support over the past two years, and I feel like I am letting everyone down by not returning this fall.  I will miss seeing all my teachers and kiddos on a daily basis. 

In regards to what is next for me, I'm 100% not sure.  I might sub a few days during the week this fall, I might get involved in some ministry, I might write a book...  I feel like the options are endless, which is why Charles has challenged me to wait to plan anything until August.  This summer, I am taking this time to listen to God. 

I just need to be and heal. 

I need to be okay with not being okay.

eff it

I am angry. 

I have a lot of anger.

And then I am angry about my anger.

I feel like of all of the stages of grief, anger is the one that I have been dealing with the longest.  I feel stuck.  I thought that once I experienced all of the "firsts" (first holidays, birthday, etc.), I would feel better and not be as angry.  But that actually isn't the case, and I still have a lot of anger. 

I am angry Jonathan isn't here. 
I am angry that I don't have a baby.
I am angry that I don't know when I'll have a baby again.
I am angry that everyone and their dog is pregnant or just had a baby.
I am angry that people don't understand (but also thankful they don't get it).
I am angry that I have to figure out my "new" normal.
I am angry I still have 30lbs of baby weight to lose.
I am angry that I am an emotional eater.
I am angry I still can't wear my wedding rings.
I am angry at God.
I am angry at people on Facebook.
I am angry that I feel so isolated.
I am angry that I hurt so bad.

I am angry.

I could honestly sit here and just continue this list for miles.  There are a lot of things that I am angry at.  Don't get me wrong, I also have joy and happiness in my life.  But grief is just complicated, and my emotions are all over the place all the time.  Charles often reminds me though that "grief and joy are not mutually exclusive."  I know that I have a ton of blessings in my life, but that doesn't make the anger and pain go away.  The complicatedness of grief is what makes me feel like I am going crazy on a day to day basis. 

One thing that I have done to cope with my anger is cuss.  Yep, as juvenile as that sounds, it does help.  If it's between cussing or punching someone in the face, and I think cussing is the better choice of the two. 

If a baby commercial or a pregnancy test commercial comes on while watching tv, I often find myself just sitting there flipping the tv off.  Yep, that's a proud moment.  There are many days that I have to hold myself back and refrain from changing my Facebook profile picture to me flipping everyone off. 

One of my friends (who has gone through her own horrific loss of a child) and I went on a rant around the holidays about how we are dealing with our grief.  We came up with a slogan: "Eff It."  By the end of the week, I had designed a shirt, and she cross-stitched a pillow for herself.  When my anger and pain becomes so extreme, sometimes the only thing to describe how I feel is: "Eff It."   

Even that cat mirrors how pissed off I am at times.  I truly love this shirt. 

One thing that really gets me fired up is when people come up to me and say the phrase, "Oh, I understand..."  And no matter what the rest of their statement is, I can feel myself already getting angry.  This is the WORST phrase to hear.  Unless your only child died four hours after he was born in your arms, you had a miscarriage ten months later which required you to have not one, but TWO D&C's, you don't understand.  And the people who do "get it" when it comes to dealing with grief, are the ones that are the first to say that they don't get it.  Honestly, sometimes Charles doesn't even get it.  Even though Jonathan was our son, our individual journey through grief is different. 

All loss is hard, and the variations of loss cannot be measured.  Grief is heart-wrenching no matter what your loss is that you face. Grief just plain SUCKS.  While we are grieving, we don't need for people to try to find some common thread.  Sometimes you just need a hug, or chocolate, or for someone to say that it really sucks what you are going through.  And sometimes, "eff it" is the best way to sum it all up.

unfiltered

I was challenged yesterday by my counselor to write.

 

While getting all worked up about where I am in my grief, she suggested that I write. I should write honest and unfiltered words.

 

Grief is something that we don't often talk about. I'm not saying I am an expert on grief by any means, but I have had my share of loss over the past couple of years. The challenge for me with this blog will be to write about my feelings honesty and actually share where I am. I shouldn't filter my words or thoughts based on what others may think about me. Doing this will be tough, but I am hoping my honesty might resonate with someone going through their own journey of grief, loss or other suckiness.

 

With being unfiltered, I need to go ahead and apologize to my mother that I might say words she doesn't approve of. I can already hear her "tsk'ing" in my head. My goal here is not trying to ruffle feathers or hurt people. I just want to be real on where I am at, and perhaps I can help others in sharing my story, my hurt and my broken heart.

 

Being transparent is hard for me because I have always felt like I need to be the "good little Christian girl" who always does the things expected of her. I am 100% a people pleaser, but where I am on my journey, I can't please everyone. Now, before you start worrying about me, I'm not going to do anything radical and go off the deep end or anything. I am just going to write honestly about how I am feeling and where I am.

 

Most of you know my story about how I lost my son one year, one month and 18 days ago shortly after he was born. This loss has turned my world upside down. It has been absolute hell in trying to figure out how to function and cope with my new normal. This blog is going to be messy. But perhaps this will be therapeutic for me and for others.

 

Bottom line, grief sucks.