“This is the cost of sharing your life with someone worth missing”

The other day, I spent the day in a familiar place with a friend, a place that holds so many beautiful, but now painful memories. Odd how something that was a place of immense joy for me, could now haunt my soul. It was very difficult for me to venture back and truth be told, i nearly did not go. Because I knew of the immense fear that my nemesis my anxiety, would work hard at sabotaging my day.

I did go and am glad, even though several times I had to fight back the notion to want to leave. I did my best to instead, try to embrace the beauty that still existed here. I focused only on the sound of the waves crashing on the beach, and to try to be in just that moment, even when i felt consumed by pain and grief.  I laughed and i enjoyed myself, but the day also had tears and sorrow. A constant reminder that my life will always hurt and feel as if i am but a fraction the person i once was. I am constantly struggling, so very hard to hold on to what of me is left.

While up in Morgan and my old stomping grounds, I ran into someone who knew the old me, someone who knew Morgan. For anyone living in the fog of grief, you know you have perpetual mush brain, you tend to block out a lot or  forget people, or events, because it is easier than the pain. I knew i recognized this person but yet could not place why? She embraced me with a warm smile and a hug, to which I reciprocated both actions. It came back to me who she was and as I smiled and made small talk.  I was told how much better I am doing, and how i am moving on, because my smile was back……..UGH!!!!  And out of nowhere, I felt as if I had been swallowed up by a heavy haze and could  feel the rush of overwhelming anxiety starting.

She did nothing wrong, and was sincere, but yet my mind, heart, and soul immediately was thrown in to a state of fight or flight. You see, when you are lost in a constant expedition to find some happiness, monsters accompany that journey… For within that momentary jubilance, you always know that lurking  and waiting for the opportunity to steal your thunder is your grief  and it will do everything it can to overshadow it with guilt and anguish. You fight it and pray and long to hold on to that  brief feeling of normal, you ache for it to  last, but it never does.

Grief is evil, it takes everything you once knew and takes control of your mind set like a narcissistic person. It makes you second guess every action, and critiques your movements like it owns you, and for the most part it does……I guess where i am going with this is, yes I smiled that day, I laughed, i enjoyed my self, at the end of the day i was glad i went. With that said, i also cried, and felt pain and had to fight all day to stay above the grief and it is exhausting to the point of wanting to sleep the entire next day….. Grief does not end, i am not better just because i can smile. But I am oh so thankfully to have some of those few moments that are exultant… Please understand we bereaved parents have to fight with every ounce of our being, every moment of everyday to find something to smile about and to do so without guilt and pain. What comes easy for most is the battle of a life time for us, this is the price one pays to have loved someone who is worth missing and for that gift, i will humbly pay the price.  

John Pavlovitz, summed up very well for me when the day i will finally stop grieving will be.

The Day I’ll Finally Stop Grieving

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“How long has it been? When is he going to get over that grief and move on already?”

I get it.

I know you might be thinking that about me or about someone else these days.

I know you may look at someone you know in mourning and wonder when they’ll snap out of it.

I understand because I use to think that way too.

Okay, maybe at the time I was self-aware enough or guilty enough not to think it quite that explicitly, even in my own head. It might have come in the form of a growing impatience toward someone in mourning or a gradual dismissing of their sadness over time or maybe in my intentionally avoiding them as the days passed. It was subtle to be sure, but I can distinctly remember reaching the place where my compassion for grieving friends had reached its capacity—and it was long before they stopped hurting.

Back then like most people, my mind was operating under the faulty assumption that grief had some predictable expiration date; a reasonable period of time after which recovery and normalcy would come and the person would return to life as it was before, albeit with some minor adjustments.

I thought all these things, until I grieved.

I never think these things anymore.

Two years ago I remember sitting with a dear friend at a coffee shop table in the aftermath of my father’s sudden passing. In response to my quivering voice and my tear-weary eyes and my obvious shell shock, she assured me that this debilitating sadness; this ironic combination of searing pain and complete numbness was going to give me a layer of compassion for hurting people that I’d never had before. It was an understanding, she said, that I simply couldn’t have had without walking through the Grief Valley. She was right, though I would have gladly acquired this empathy in a million other ways.

Since that day I’ve realized that Grief doesn’t just visit you for a horrible, yet temporary holiday. It moves in, puts down roots—and it never leaves. Yes as time passes, eventually the tidal waves subside for longer periods, but they inevitably come crashing in again without notice, when you are least prepared. With no warning they devastate the landscape of your heart all over again, leaving you bruised and breathless and needing to rebuild once more.

Grief brings humility as a housewarming gift and doesn’t care whether you want it or not.

You are forced to face your inability to do anything but feel it all and fall apart. It’s incredibly difficult in those quiet moments, when you realize so long after the loss that you’re still not the same person you used to be; that this chronic soul injury just won’t heal up. This is tough medicine to take, but more difficult still, is coming to feel quite sure that you’ll never be that person again. It’s humbling to know you’ve been internally altered: Death has interrupted your plans, served your relationships, and rewritten the script for you.

And strangely (or perhaps quite understandably) those acute attacks of despair are the very moments when I feel closest to my father, as if the pain somehow allows me to remove the space and time which separates us and I can press my head against his chest and hear his heartbeat once more. These tragic times are somehow oddly comforting even as they kick you in the gut.

And it is this odd healing sadness which I’ll carry for the remainder of my days; that nexus between total devastation and gradual restoration.It is the way your love outlives your loved one.

I’ve walked enough of this road to realize that it is my road now. This is not just a momentary detour, it’s the permanent state of affairs. I will have many good days and many moments of gratitude and times of welcome respite, but I’m never fully getting over this loss.

This is the cost of sharing your life with someone worth missing.

Two years into my walk in the Valley I’ve resigned myself to the truth that this a lifetime sentence. At the end of my time here on the planet, I will either be reunited with my father in some glorious mystery, or simply reach my last day of mourning his loss.

Either way I’m beginning to rest in the simple truth:

The day I’ll stop grieving—is the day I stop breathing.

 

Choices

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Three years ago today, A mother made a choice to provide alcohol for her son. She chose to allow her drunk son and his friend to get behind the wheel of his truck and drive, which resulted in his own death, as well as killing my daughter.
Their choices took away my child, her future, the life of a beautiful young woman who had just begun to live.
Three years ago today, their choices determined what would from now on would be a “Normal” life for me.

This Is Now What “Normal” Is …
Author Unknown

Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family’s life.

Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, July 4th and Easter.

Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable at a funeral than a wedding or birthday party.. yet feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers and see the casket.

Normal is feeling like you can’t sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don’t like to sit through anything.

Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand ‘what ifs’ and ‘why didn’t I’s’ go through your head constantly.

Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.

Normal is having the TV on the minute you walk into the house to have noise, because silence is deafening.

Normal is staring at every young girl who looks like she is my daughter’s age and then thinking of the age she would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.

Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind because of the hole in my heart.

Normal is telling the story of your child’s death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone’s eyes at how awful it sounds, and yet realizing it has become a part of my “normal”.

Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child’s memory and their birthday and survive these days, trying to find the balloon or flag that fits the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really.

Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special that reminds me of my daughter. Thinking how she would have loved it, but how she’s not here to enjoy it.

Normal is having some people afraid to even mention my daughter.

Normal is making sure that others remember her.

Normal is that after the funeral is over, everyone else goes on with their lives but we will continue to grieve our loss forever.

Normal is weeks, months and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.

Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you – it doesn’t compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.

Normal is trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.

Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.

Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of your child.

Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in England, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but never having met any of them face to face.

Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.

Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food in the house.

Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have three children or two, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my daughter is in Heaven. Yet when you say you have two children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your daughter.

Normal is knowing I will never get over the loss, in a day or a million years. And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become “normal” for you to feel, so that everyone else around you will think you are “normal”.

Please think about your choices……Because when you choose to drink and drive, yours is not the only life that may be changed.

 

The Walk

I have this friend who to me has always been the epitome of an itinerant. I have had the pleasure of knowing him for 25 years or more and never understood his way of life, sometimes even criticizing his choices because it was not what i inherently believed society has deemed to be that of the human norm.  In my eyes I had the perfect life, beautiful children, the monitory esthetics, and a husband who was the definition of a good man, and father. Life is complete, right? How could everyone not want that and strive for that?  I always felt that my friend must be missing out on so much, such as love, stability, security, instead it seemed as if he focused on the proverbial pipe dream. How can one believe that they will ever find solace in a life that is not grounded with the tradition of the set of sacraments we are engrained with for what “Life” should be? Maybe the answer is that there is no consolation in one place, especially for those whose soul are tortured. Whether it be grief, or feelings of inadequacy or purely that the expectations of who you are suppose to be has left you feeling as if your soul has been sucked out of you.  Maybe for some the pipe dream is just that a fallacy, for my friend this seems not to be the case.

Maybe my friend chose for his life style to be more of a journey than most will ever fathom, because he knew some where deep inside that for him to seek fulfillment was to break the tradition of what was expected. We as humans seem to instinctively bind ourselves with chains, but I believe we all  have a visceral part of our psyche that craves to see past what has for us become an abstraction of what should be our reality.  So I ponder and succumb to the ugly truth that my being is no longer what once was a life full of certainty and promise, it has pragmatically become something that is neither derivative nor dependent but more of an existence where I lack active strength of body and mind. I feel as if I am standing outside witnessing the suffering of a chronic illness that will enviably consume and  succeed with the demise of my soul.  I mean shit, one can only snuggle with your demons for so long…..Finding a new normal has been almost as exhausting as how i feel i came to be in my predicament, and I am so tired of trying to fit in to what the standards tell me i should do….So what is to be learned from this? I wish I had the answers, I wish i could whip up some witty smart ass thing to say, because we all weather our own storms and we would like to believe that the storm will run out of rain, but as of now I cannot say this….So what is left to do with a life that is not mine to take, continue the journey which may just start with a walk. Thanks for the book Peppi ❤

 walk

Chasing My Tail

It has been a long time since I have wrote on my blog. I have been working so much just to keep my mind clear and thought taking a step back from things would make the healing more easier. It has been 2 years 5 months and 2 days since Morgan was taken from me and contrary to popular belief it does not get easier. The pain is still there and it is hard to decipher if it changes anymore, it seems to become somewhat stagnate you just learn to live with the constant aching. I have said before that there is an immense difference between being alive and living. I still find that the demons lurk in the daylight as well in the darkness,  I can only compare this to a dark cloud that completely encompasses you and is your constant companion. No matter how much I throw myself into this farce of a life or self medicate or both at the end of the day there is still little hope of joy or a small glimpse of a ray of shining sun. Oddly enough the grieving parent has now become the disillusioned parent. You are like a dog that chases your tail, so determined, but no matter how hard you pursue, you never prevail. I get up, go to work, come home go to bed, try to sleep which still is a struggle, just to wake up and do it all over again.  I surmise that the mind set of chasing my tail could be presumed as a positive challenge in the sense that i am still hopeful, and still have enough determination  to continue with this wicked quest even though failure seems imminent.  Grief makes one do things that are sometimes just a sick form of mental mutilation similar to someone who cuts. You hurt so badly you become numb, so you cut to feel pain and bleed which reaffirms you are still alive. I do still crave and ponder the prospect that maybe i will learn to really live again. Until than I slowly travel with a feeling of cement bricks tied to my feet while trudging thru quick sand.

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The Walls are crumbling

gardenI haven’t blogged in a while, I thought maybe my walls had been built high enough to keep all my demons out. But sadly i find this is not true, I have come to understand that my life has become something similar to the movie ground hog day, it doesn’t go away it doesn’t change and no matter how hard I thrust myself into everyone else’s world at the end of the day i have to step back into mine.

Working has been a wonderful distraction but a facade, i have something pushing me to exist because i must live, but i find i am still not alive. I feel the burnout coming, i can feel the moistness of the fog that turns into  the darkness knowing its shadows are slowly  blanketing my being. I am not sure if it is because its the nearing time of year where my real life ended, or if i am just completely depleted, probably a little of both.  I am at the  point where I get up look in the mirror and realize that the only reason I go to work is because it is the last stitch holding together my sanity and purpose together.

ya

I find myself searching for the answer of is this the best I will every have? I barely am surviving emotionally, financially, physically and yet i force my self to continue the daily ritual of what i have to do to get to the next day! Why? What will the next day possibly have to offer that is different than today? Its like climbing a mountain and exerting every ounce of energy you can muster to get to the top to see that there is another mountain to climb. No reward, no feeling of accomplishment. Just the feeling that you have to start all over again. I am tired, so tired and feel as if I am running out of reasons to conform. My job gives me a sense of being needed which is paramount to my personal requirements, and yet there has to be more to a new life than that. I find I am back in the mode of I only have to work two more days than a day off, if i can get through that I am golden. Yet when that day off gets here, I have no strength to do anything, I am so exhausted that i wish to do nothing, I mean nothing! It is a chore to make something to eat or shower. I do not even wish to remain out of bed for longer than a refill on coffee or occasion cigarette!

I still do it, I get up every day with the attitude today is going to be the day!  Things are going to change for me and there will be a new light showing me the way but there is never any light. Will there ever be a day where there is? Will it ever feel like I am doing more than buying time to my end of life?

I can’t help but feel that this vicious circle will not be broken and yet I keep praying and trying  in hopes that i find a light before I my body completely shuts down because it has too much to bear and goes its own way quietly inside waiting for a better time, leaving me this numb and half alive forever.

Grief Could Use a GPS

road

Work has been a welcome distraction, although I talk about you daily, it does help to keep my mind occupied. The down time is sometimes overwhelming as my thoughts are inundated with you!  I still feel so violated in so many ways!  I never got the answers I needed, I never got accountability for how you were taken from me. I live knowing I will never get to do the things that I have dreamt of your entire life, and honestly it just takes the breath from my lungs. It has almost been 21 months and although I am learning how to function, I still feel lost and am uncertain of my destination.  I suppose if I methodically continue to keep my spare time to a minimum I will continue to travel in search of true life, not just living.

I just still feel so empty and in pain, i miss you so much! Words cannot begin to explain the void in my life. Your face is the first thing I see when I wake up and the last thing i see before I sleep, which makes me smile for a moment and than fills my heart with more pain.  I miss you my baby girl, every-day and every moment! I would give my life to just have one more moment with you,   to see that beautiful smile and those amazing eyes, and hear that contagious laugh. I love you baby girl forever and a day and look forward to the day I see you again….until than i will try to continue to walk down the road to find the peace that may give me the strength to find some kind of joy again, which seems impossible without you!

mow

Frozen In Grief

timeOne of the difficult questions to answer is “How long will I be grieving?”

The process can go on for years, in some cases even a lifetime

The answer to this question is highly variable, depending on many factors including the type of loss, extraordinary circumstances surrounding the loss.  It also depends on an individuals coping skills and number of prior losses, and how those were handled.

Tragedies can be much more difficult to recover from quickly of at all depending on the nature of the tradgedy e.g unnecessary or accidental death, rape, loss through natural disasters, death during war-time, unnecessary acts of violence. These types of losses are the ones that lend themselves to counseling and seeking professional help to deal with the loss. Depending on the nature of the loss, it may be something that a person may never recover from, but one must learn how to incorporate the loss, learn what one can and move on.

Part of what needs to remember about grief and mourning, is that the same event experienced by many different people can affect individuals very differently. This is especially important within families, because certain members may be in different stages of the grieving process, go through the phases more quickly than others or stay stuck in certain phases for years  Anger, or Depression.

One needs to be mindful when dealing with others, that they will probably not be in the same stage as you are. Understanding the stages of grief and the grieving process can help deal with the hard feelings and the arguments that may arise from two individuals trying to communicate when in different stages

Grief

There is a grief that ages the face

and hardens the heart

yet softens the spirit

 

A grief that cast shadows on the eyes

yet broadens the mind

 

A grief that keeps the pain and has no words

But increases the understanding

 

There is a grief that breaks the heart and wounds the soul

That lasts and lasts and can shatter in a minute

But will inspire for a lifetime

I Grieve

it was only one hour ago 

it was all so different then 

there’s nothing yet has really sunk in 

looks like it always did 

this flesh and bone 

it’s just the way that you would tied in 

now there’s no-one home 

 

i grieve for you 

you leave me 

‘so hard to move on 

still loving what’s gone 

they say life carries on 

carries on and on and on and on 

 

the news that truly shocks is the empty empty page 

while the final rattle rocks its empty empty cage 

and i can’t handle this 

 

i grieve for you 

you leave me 

let it out and move on 

missing what’s gone 

they say life carries on 

they say life carries on and on and on 

 

life carries on 

in the people i meet 

in everyone that’s out on the street 

in all the dogs and cats 

in the flies and rats 

in the rot and the rust 

in the ashes and the dust 

life carries on and on and on and on 

life carries on and on and on 

 

it’s just the car that we ride in 

a home we reside in 

the face that we hide in 

the way we are tied in 

and life carries on and on and on and on 

life carries on and on and on 

 

did I dream this belief? 

or did i believe this dream? 

now i can find relief 

i grieve

 

-Peter Gabriel

 

Perfectly Imperfect

IMG_0697Grief is instrumental to the  metamorphous of person, as a whole. So many things change in your life when you lose some one you love. Although  no loss is an easy one, as personally I have lost my father, stepmother and grandparents.  Sadly as heart wrenching as their deaths were there is no comparison to how my life has changed with the loss of Morgan. There is no possible way to describe what this life altering event does to you, or prepare you for the process it takes to find a new normal, especially when the process is as individual as the experience it self. This is why i continue to share this undertaking, for understanding on every level. For myself to reflect on, for those who are in a similar predicament, as well as people who simply wish to understand more.

In my journey over the last 17 months or 5 days shy of 17 months I have found that the one place i feel somewhat normal is when i am with others like me. This could be in a virtual support group, or a friendship, or honestly a stranger with a similar story. It is so hard to feel like an oddity or only feel “Normal” whatever that is, when you are among other s that belong to this club which no body wants to be a member of. You only feel a like you are not abnormal because others for similar reasons now live with broken hope of what their dreams once were, because their world was as well obliterated. I suppose to feel  comfort and normalcy when you are with those who are just as fragmented is conventional in many facets. Its just so hypocritical, you do not wish anyone else to ever live in the hell you are in, you do not want anyone to have felt this pain,but yet you gravitate to those that do because they get it.

I can say that I am learning to process the fact that nothing will every be the same, it will always hurt, it will never  completely heal. I am finding that i have been able to laugh a little more than months ago, I cry a little less and slowly am learning to move back into trying to be functionally productive. This is not saying I am any better than I was during the early months, it is just saying that I am adjusting  to function with the pain. I still feel like I am in quick sand and still seems like a lot of the time the fight to get out is not worth the emotional and physical exhaustion. On those days, I generally drop back five and punt, maybe  just try to stay under the covers until i feel strong enough to fight a bit more, whatever it takes.

I do grasp a lot more now, the proverbial light bulb has gone off, i am always going to be broken! I will never be whole, kind of  like a puzzle missing a piece or I suppose like a tea cup that the handle breaks off and is glued back together, its weaker and never the same, but can function. So at this point in this wicked game this is where i am and quite honestly it is what it is! I have learned that at any given day in the process of grief, the battles you fight change from moment to moment. In the beginning i guess you are going through the traditional stages if you will. As time goes on and you graduate into new challenges, you find that the things that hurt now are things you could not have fathomed when it first happened. When you bury your child the pain and shock are so intense that no one could have possibly prepared you for it! So as  time goes you learn to progress through those stages, and you may find that in some ways you come to terms with the fact that your baby is gone and not coming back. Than you at some point start to climb out of the rabbit hole to see that the world and life as you knew it, now has a completely contrasting view with  incompatible meaning. You now identify with different goals, hopes and dreams, because the ones you had before  are now a mirage. The depth of these goals , hopes, and dreams, may be  as little as getting out of bed and making your bed one day or as extreme  changing a career.  The metamorphous of grief  reprograms you to keep the focus of the obtainable idea that you are only in need do the best that you can at a single moment, nothing more nothing less as well as embrace the idea of your new normal to be as being perfectly imperfect!

Happy Hippo

My Dearest Morgan Ray
For Months after you were taken away from us, your Dress from your Junior prom hung in the dinning room, a constant reminder of your beauty and your life. I think that we could not take it down, because with that went a part of you that we could not let go. A month or so ago, a friend and I lovingly packed up some of your belongings, it was so hard baby girl. I felt as if i was finalizing your life, which is not true. You are a part of me everyday and those that loved you.

After a lot of soul searching I decided that the dress too must come down, because i no longer saw good it in it, but anger and pain because you are gone. I am so Blessed Morgan to have people in my life that have helped me once again look at your dress with love and beauty that you represented….I hope you are proud of my choice for this, because now i can hold it in comfort and cherish its memory as much as i do you. I love you forever and a day baby girl, you will always be my heart, my soul, my daughter. ♥ 1234

This was not an easy decision for me, but i believe in my heart the right one. Looking at an empty dress made me feel as if I lost her all over again, it made me happy for the memories of that prom and that dress, but angry. I felt as empty as the dress, and wanted that feeling of joy back that i got while she wore it. Hippos were her favorite and to now see her dress in this way makes me feel close to her and her spirit. Its something I can hold forever, not just hang in a closet.

Thank You Sandy and Barb for helping me to keep my baby girl close to me ♥

hippo 2

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Comfortably Numb

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You would think that it would be no big surprise after almost 16 months that i could fall back into a familiar place of emotional numbness, but again no rules and lots of let downs. The Past few days I have  become some what numb again. The Bully is such an obstinate bastard, its wrath has really just emotionally and physically whipped my ass again. I guess the mind knows when its time to shut down to give your body a reprieve, I am grateful that my mind is not completely dysfunctional and knows when the soul needs a break.

And  yet, the mind let the bully come out in a different facet, in my sleep. I had the most bizarre dream last night, I was at a hospital visiting a family whose child was battling cancer, in the dream I knew this child would not survive, I remember trying to keep it together for this family whom i barely knew, because I didn’t want them to know that i could feel the child would not survive. I could not stop bawling in the dream, it was simply uncontrollable because i knew that with their child’s fate, would become a life sentence of hell for this family. I rarely remember my dreams, but this one seem to continue for what seemed like forever. I never saw Morgan in my dream but was fully aware that the tears were flowing because of her. I was crying so hard in my dream that it woke me up and I had been literally crying in my sleep.

This really freaked me out, I thought to myself this morning why can i cry in my sleep but am so empty while awake…I started to research dreams and meanings and interpretations of them and this is what I found.

Some of the explanations from the sources I read:

“If you are crying in a dream, then you are likely in some sort of mourning or expression of grief.   Tears of sadness connect to loss.”  

“The more acutely you can feel the physicality of crying upon waking, the closer to consciousness the wound is.  The level of disconsolation you feel may give you an idea of the intensity of the hurt you are cleansing.  Remember that in your dreams, just as in life, crying is a healthy and powerful way of processing grief and facilitating transition and transformation.”

“To dream that you are crying indicates a release of depressing feelings that may be closely linked to actual happenings in your waking life rather than scenes from the dream itself. Your dream may be a means to restore some emotional stability whilst providing an appropriate outlet for your fears and frustrations. As people go through their everyday lives, they tend to push back, ignore, disallow, or repress their true emotions. It is only through their dreams that they are able to unmask their persona and truly express their feelings.”

“Crying in a dream can represent repressed emotions that are about to boil over. When this is the case one really needs to deal with these emotional traumas and difficulties in their waking life immediately otherwise an outpour is going to happen and it may not be at the best of times. 

In our waking state we can hold back emotions and fears but while sleeping our guard is down and we are open to being forced to face these issues. However once you begin to dream of crying things are usually too far out of hand to hold back in your waking life much longer. “

These excerpts kind of make me nervous and confused, again because i am continually on an emotionally charged roller coaster. I mean in my dream last night, I was  emotionally in so much pain it  manifested in a different outlet, but yet in my conscious life, I am repressing my emotions. I really try not to put any stock in the moment as it changes with the wind. I guess taking a cue from my apparent need to hold back and become comfortably numb is where i need to be at this moment. Maybe it is some sort of blessing that my subconscious is choosing to give my cluttered soul a needed break.

The lesson I am learning or should i say should be submitting to as well as  conforming to has been redundantly referred to is that again  this journey has no time frame, no rules, and no logic for one to eliminate the bully. This is a fact, no matter how many times i say it, write it or just live it. It is what it is! So, I proceed with the concept  to go with the flow of the current moment with acceptance and understanding as well as patience. A maze of an enigma is the  path a grieving parent  must conquer in ordered to get a head of the bully or at the very least learn to coexist.