“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.

 

Unf*ck Your Life: A Guide for the F*cked

Okay before anybody judges a book by its cover in this case the title…….DO NOT!!!!

My journey thru this evil grief process has been one of many trials and errors, what I mean by this is that yet again, i must redundantly regurgitate the most paramount lesson one must learn in this process, there are no rules. Having no rules means that all the advice in the world cannot prepare one for how crippled and discombobulated their life will become with grief.  Looking back at some of my post, i see such emotions as hatred, love, anger, disbelief, loss of hope, honestly too many to list…Its like I am Cybil.

After 2 years and 6 months I am still struggling to live, you know, really live. I still feel as if I am slithering in quicksand, with no end in sight.   I know my life will and cannot ever be the old normal again, how could it be? My daughter’s life was brutally taken from me. I am however, still pressing forward with the hope of  to continue fighting tooth and nail in search of my new normal. I miss Morgan, more than I could have ever fathomed….after all this time, it still seems like yesterday and in no way has  gotten better nor easier, just different.  The bottom line is that it has been 2 years and 6 months and I have not given up, so there you have it, I have not given up.

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I strive to find ways to keep what is left of my sanity and find that like a new mother, one searches for information on how to start your life with a new child and be the best as your capabilities  in order to truly live and enjoy the best life has to offer. You take in and absorb all the advice and information like a sponge in hopes of giving not only yourself but your child the ability to embrace what it is to truly live and flourish.  Now as a grieving mother, i find this to be true again, and I search for a way to have the best quality of life someone in my predicament can have with hope of someday having a life  that  will be worth living again.

I want to share something with everyone that I hope in some facet of your life that may help you find a bit of personal solace. My brother sent me a link to a book called Unfuck Your Life: A Guide for the Fucked,  I was fascinated as well as intrigued by the title and found myself reading the writings of a man i now find brilliant and inspiring. I have found that his  in your face truth is a gospel of how to make changes to change ones life. Will it be the end to all bad in your life? Will it miraculously cure the ill? Probably not, but what my hopes of sharing it are that it will be something that is an inspiring tool for perseverance of a life worth living. I know I have nothing to lose  at this point and still grasp on to hope, and this blog gives me hope. My aspirations are that you find inspiration as well as hope in any or all of his writings…..I certainly have, and in a world where i rarely feel inspired, it feels damn good to feel stimulated. I hope you are stimulated as well: https://www.facebook.com/unfckyourlife

 

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.

I have seen better Days!!

fml-i-dont-know-like-sorry-text-Favim.com-363799Tomorrow I try once again to join the real world, as much as this is not my choice. I would much rather live like a gypsy and try to find the strength to find my way out of my darkness, and find my new normal. I walked away from my good paying job six months after Morgan was stolen from my life, I worked another job months after that, which i really enjoyed but found my emotional state was so unstable. I would be fine for a while and than something would set me off and I was unable to keep my composure. Its ironic to me that grief is not a medical condition as it is so debilitating, chronic, and unpredictable!  There is no cure, no quick fix, and it has vast effects on each individual! For me, it has been a life sentence!  It has changed me to the point, I have little interest in much! I have intermittent moments of steady weeks as well as momentary joy, and yet still have more of uncontrollable anguish! Little things that would not shake the average person, cripple me.

Financially I have no choice at this point to step back into the work force, I have an interview tomorrow and although I am so intrigued of the prospect of a new endeavor. I cannot find the excitement I need to prosper in it, its a survival thing! I have to do it if I want to remain with a roof over my head, but know it will not allow me to live, just exist. Maybe it is what it is as for the last 19 months, that is all I have done anyway! I ponder if I will ever truly find joy in anything again? I wish I had enough money to just float, and search for what my purpose is, but unfortunately I am not able to do that. Sometimes I get so pissed at people who are financially independent  and are so ungrateful!  Athletes, movie stars, performers for example make more money in one month than I could spend in a life time!…..I am not feeling sorry for myself, It just infuriates me that someone else chose this life for me….I heard yesterday from someone again, there must be a reason for Morgans death….I am so F#$cking tired of peoples ignorance!!!  I wanted to take their head in my hands and shake it till it fell off and than say “Well there is a reason for this?”

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Here is a reason my life is the way it is!!!  Two Kids  were given free will to be able to make stupid decisions, the parents involved were given free will to contribute and enable these two boys choices. The parents of some of the kids involved who were not in the accident were responsible for purchasing the alcohol for these delinquents to party. Honestly it would have been acceptable for this to happen, if  all the parents involved did not have their heads not up their asses and they made good choices to keep them home where they would not hurt anyone else or themselves.  So although the boys involved made dumb choices, their parents and the parents who bought the alcohol are the reason my daughter was murdered. These parents now can live with the fact that they murdered my daughter and caused the death of another…

So now, as they go about their merry way and continue the same patterns because they have obviously have not learned anything from their ignorance, I have to try to find a way to financially survive, while I am still in more pain than I ever imagined. I just for the life of me do not understand, why me and my family has to continually be punished for others choices. I hope for the strength to obtain this job tomorrow as well as keep on going with it…I am just struggling to find the power to be positive.

I tend to identify my feelings with music, because it reaches the deadness with in me, this song is how I feel and validates my writings today, some may say I need to move on, some may say I need to get over it but grief does not allow it to be so easy, I hope and pray that no one understands this despair, and for those that do. Keep on, Keeping on, you are maybe a select few but not alone, and my blog is for all of us.

days

It goes a little something like this

In my shoes my toes are busted,
My kitchen says my bread is molded,
I got a good job at the dollar store,
One foot in the hole, one foot gettin’ deeper,
with a broken mirror and a blown out speaker
And I ain’t got much else to lose.
I’m faded, flat busted;
I’ve been jaded I’ve been dusted.
I know that I’ve seen better days.
One foot in the hole, one foot gettin’ deeper,
Crank it to eleven, blow another speaker and
I ain’t got, I ain’t got much to loose
‘Cause

I’ve seen better days I’ve been star of many plays
I’ve seen better days and the bottom drops out.
I’ve seen better days I’ve been star of many plays
I’ve seen better days and the bottom drops out.

Now My cup’s filled up with five buck wine
I find myself here all the time
Another rip in the glass another chip in my tooth
Rained on I’ve been stained on
Found another goat I tried to put the blame on
And now I’m steppin on all the cracks
So I guess there ain’t no use
‘Cause

I’ve seen better days I’ve been star of many plays
I’ve seen better days and the bottom drops out.
I’ve seen better days I’ve been star of many plays
I’ve seen better days and the bottom drops out.

Woman: “Do you like my gucci bag?”

That’s beautiful, beautiful
Check it check it check it out,

I’m bent like glass second hand like glory,
Missed the bus but I’m in no hurry,
Molasses fast no business born,
One foot in the hole, one foot getting deeper,
Crank it to eleven, blow another speaker and
I aint got i aint got much to lose
‘Cause

I’ve seen better days I’ve been star of many plays
I’ve seen better days and the bottom drops out.
I’ve seen better days I’ve been star of many plays
I’ve seen better days,
I’ve seen better days,
I know that i’ve seen better days,
(the bottom drops out)
I’ve been the star, of so many plays,
(and the bottom drops out)
Walked on the edge with that hobo way.
(the bottom drops out)
‘Cause I know I know that I’ve seen better days
(and the bottom drops out)

Now I’m real thirsty…

(Sublime)

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

 

Memories………..

27133_10151569061629246_1867344700_nI was sitting going thru some pictures of Morgan and ran across some videos that some of her friends had posted on YouTube, one which I had never seen….thought I would share…. 😥

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.

Heart still in for repair

 

ugh

 

 

Morgan Ray is Forever Sweet 16 , and will be gone 16 months on the 16th of this month. I continue to struggle with the strength to learn how to live without her. Basically I am still a mess. although I do continue to try and stay positive and look at all the wonderful things in my life that I am thankful for. I really have a lot to be thankful for, and realize it.  Sometimes its hard, you have to understand to see that horizon even when you know it is out there is not that simple. Because the dark cloud of  grief  is a constant deterrent that relentlessly bullies you until it gets the best of and kicks your ass until your spirit is broken and all you feel is  empty and in pain. Than when the bully leaves you because it thinks it has won you get back up and try again to see that horizon.

The bully has left me  in another funk, it seems like in the past the dark days may last a few days and than I snap out of it and press on, this time it seems to be lingering a bit longer…Its really hard to explain. I know people must think, she really needs to move on, she really needs to pull her self together and get back out there into a productive life.  I really am trying, as I want to so badly, I really do!  I feel like  there is so much life out there for me to live, and I believe in my heart that is what Morgan would want for me. She was a fighter, and obstinate, and I used to be just like that, and hope to be again someday. Lately it seemed like i at least was getting a burst of energy and would  get an idea in my head and think okay this is going to be the thing to push me back into the world and find my way to this mystical place of a new normal. It just hasn’t seemed to work out that way yet, a few days in the new venture and I am in burn out mode. That doesn’t mean I won’t keep trying, it just means that for a grieving parent getting back on the proverbial horse is not as easy as one may think even after 15 months.

 

I follow a website solely for grieving moms, I find that every-time I get on there, although the stories are heart wrenching I realize just how many other people are out there are like me. I guess some may think that it would make it worse, but it actually brings hope and comfort….I find that in this place, I am not different, I am not alone, I belong to a club that no one in their right mind would want to be a part of and yet it brings me strength and a feeling of belonging. So many people with so many stories, struggles and yet so much support. Mothers who may be in the raw portion of this process to ones who are still struggling years after. I find that with this forum, I am normal, my thoughts, feelings, actions as well as my depression are normal. The bully can’t hurt me there.

I get that by all means I am battling a state of severe depression, but have come to understand its not the kind that people get by normal standards, it is the kind of depression you are thrown into because you have no other means to survive. Its effects have diminished  my capacity  to have much desire to live a traditional life.  It has as well limited how I have maintained many friendships and relationships, many  that I have had for years. Its a vicious cycle, i tend to push people away, or keep myself at a distance from them, so they are not subjected to the bully.  I certainly do not want to drag everyone into my hell. It is madness, i find that I am so lonely it hurts, but yet I want to be alone. I want to be in social situations but feel like a human oddity as a friend puts it an elephant in the room.  Grief is a cruel debilitating ailment it really makes you want to just run away until you don’t hurt anymore. As hard as I have tried to completely withdraw, there are a few people who are uniquely strong willed  or stubborn if you will that  continue to come into the padded walls of my current existence.  Lord knows that for the life of me I cannot fathom why they continue to ride this storm out with me, let alone  be battered by my damaged character!  I have to say, i am damn lucky as well as blessed that against my better judgement they didn’t run to a safety zone. I know in my heart that I have remained above complete lunacy because of them. It means a lot to me all the the people who have been there on my journey for a new normal who have given me support without judgement, whether it may be in my everyday life, my cyber life, or just in their thoughts…

 

broken-heart-quotes-22Although I may be  bruised and broken, my heart is in for repair. In my situation,  as far as i can tell, I am perfectly normal and its okay to not be okay, as long as I keep trying!  A wise woman says to me that “I am doing the very best i can for me at this moment.”

The Eyes Have It!

LIfe lessons are something i am continually learning about, i have gained the knowledge of the old adage not to judge a book by its cover. Since losing Morgan, I have become so much more patient, I now tend to look past flaws in life and people, that maybe i wouldn’t have before. Being a part of the club no body wants to be a member of has taken its toll, not just on me, but every one who is an associate with this horrible society. I notice things that I did not notice before or maybe i noticed but did not understand….In the past, if I walked into a store and the clerk was being miserable and unhelpful, before i may have gotten an attitude with them, but now i tend to look into their eyes and wonder. I wonder what pain they may be living with? What story do their eyes tell, or hide? I have come to an understanding that the broken hearted in this club have lost a spark that they will never have again. Not that they won’t ever find a place where they can be happy, but that they will never be whole.
The eyes are often thought of as ‘the windows of the soul’. The soul of parents in grief  have been forever changed, and it shows in their eyes. I see this when I look in the mirror, i see that a part of my soul has died along with My Morgan. I see this in others eyes as well, who are suffering from the same anguish.eyes

Our eyes tell the story of tortured souls of all kinds, people who are angry and are perceived as being down right mean may be just suffering from some kind of pain. We are always told to be kind to people because we don’t know where they have been and what they have been through, I personally have not always considered this and now i do. It actually is a good thing that I am coming to an understanding of how much human pain can cause a person to change, I wish it didn’t come to this point because of Morgans death, But this is a fact that cannot be ignored.

life is short and people have pasts as well as pain. Learning to move forward doesn’t always mean healing or beating the demons.  Life is short, every breath is a gift what we  should do with that gift is to give it back with patience and understanding as well as tolerance. Nickelbacks lyrics are powerful yet simple ”

“Each day’s a gift and not a given right
Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind
And try to take the path less traveled by
That first step you take is the longest stride”

This is the way we should look at life, but in order to achieve this we must find the tolerance  within ourselves to see that there may be more of a reason some one is on their current path.  Next time someone has gotten you to the point that you are ready to blow, or you decide that a homeless person on the street should be deemed as a bum, whatever the situation, try to  look into their eyes, look past your assumptions. If you can do this you may be able to not just see but look  to their tortured soul. I know this may seem to be a feat that is not feasible, but the point is just step back from the situation and think, there may be more to their story.