Sometimes You Just Have To Let It Out

Okay, this post has been sitting in my draft box for a while. Recently when my walls felt as though they were closing in, I would sit and type it all out on the computer, but that is as far as it went. The publish button was never hit because I was not ready for the world to see. It was uncomfortable for me to share such vulnerable emotions because this is such an ugly side of grief, and I don't like for others to witness this agony. Everyone grieves differently, and sometimes it may cause you to think or do things that you would not normally. The thought of sharing this with others always scared me because I didn't want people to think bad of me for something that, for the most part, I couldn't control just because they may not understand the grief process. So it was just safer sitting in my draft box. My thoughts suddenly changed the other day when I was reminded why I created this blog in the first place. This blog was developed to share Allie's story and possibly help others going through similar experiences. How am I helping others that may be struggling with grief if I sugar coat it all? Therefore, I decided to just let it all out. The following is pretty much a summary of the emotions from my draft box:

Michael and I have, of course, have been struggling with our emotions. Probably me a little more so than Michael now, because even though we are both on the same journey we travel different paths from time to time, which is perfectly normal. He hit this latest stage a little sooner than me, so he has had more time to start pulling back out of the valley while I am now sliding head first into the valley. It is difficult trying to help each other through these tough times when you are both hurting, and we do our best, but there are also times when we have just said, "I love you and I'll meet you on the other side." This summer went really well for me. I was handling my emotions well, I was able to be strong for Michael, I was relaxed, and I was even feeling better. I honestly thought I was on the road to "recovery" (I know there is not really a true recovery from such tragedy, but you know what I mean). Then August hit, and my world turned upside down. I'm not sure if it was because of school starting back or that it was Allie's birthday month or the combination of everything, but I suddenly found myself in a very scary state of mind. I am smart enough to know that there are stages of grief that everyone tends to go through when faced with tragedy. For some reason I also believed that since I knew these stages then I could recognize what was happening and possibly just skip right through. I had just walked Michael through, so I should be fine, right? This, obviously, was not the case. My emotions seem to be caught in a whirlwind that is spinning fiercely out of control. I cannot tell heads from tails. I went from having an abundant amount of faith to having little or no faith at all. My eyes blinked and it disappeared. The devil is really good at what he does, and he knows that I am vulnerable because I am a mommy with a broken heart (easy target). I have fought, and fought, and fought, but it is just too difficult. He has me wrapped so tight in his grip that I am almost suffocating, and I'm tired. I am so tired that I am just threads away from giving up, and my thread is frayed. It would be so easy to not get out of bed anymore, it would be so easy to quit work, it would be so easy to quit going to church, it would be so easy to just stop everything. The least little bit of difficulty shuts me down completely now. I cannot handle the slightest change, the simplest decision, or the tiniest addeded stress. Being able to manage my weight feels like a lost cause at the moment because even though I know what to do to loose it and try to make myself feel better, I don't have the motivation to even get started (which just adds to the cycle, because that causes me to get depressed). To add to all of this emotional craze, I can't seem to shake the guilt. I still continue to beat myself up about things that were completely out of my hands. It is so bothersome to me that I had to watch my baby suffer (it doesn't set well with me, and I don't know if those images will ever leave my mind). I'm still taking those baby steps through this entire process, and I am praying that this stage will pass soon. There is so much anger and confusion, which upsets me because I am not typically in this state of mind, but this is one of the changes grief has brought on me. Michael and Mason are my focus at the moment and what keep me going. I know that I will eventually make it to the other side, but until then I pray that I can regain my strength to stomp that devil back down where he belongs. I hate to be so brutally honest, but I want to let others know that it is normal to feel some of these emotions when dealing with grief so they are not mislead. Please continue to pray that God will give us strength, comfort, and peace. Thank you.