Tag: #grief

My new “normal”

I am tired of being bereaved. I want my life back.

“I’m tired of being bereaved. Tired of my son being dead. I want out. I want to go back to being a “normal mom” who didn’t make decisions about end of life, or what to do with ashes, or how to celebrate birthdays for a child who isn’t here to celebrate. I didn’t sign up for this life, and I’d like the one I planned for back, please.

Give me the uncomplicated small talk, the easy play dates, the simple family photos. Bring on the joyful holiday celebrations.

Return me to that place where sad stories were sad stories, not triggers reducing me to a pile of tears one day or a disassociated robot the next. Make me strong again, in the way only the ignorant can be.

Paint the world in black and white, in simple colors and shapes. Good things happen to good people, bad actions have consequences. Restore order and balance. Make sense of things.

Because this randomness, this roulette wheel of tragedy, it is heavy.” – Elizabeth Thoma

This is exactly how I feel. I could not have said it better than she does.

This isn’t how my life was supposed to go. I had other dreams and plans and all of those included having Nikolai physically part of my world.

I was not unfamiliar to grief before Nikolai died; however, the death of my child is vastly different than the losses I have experienced. For 15 years I raised this child. I read books to him, we ran together, went to the park, Pontiac Lake in the summer to swim. As a family we did vacations, camping, hiking, movies, hanging out at home. We laughed, we cried, we argued, we loved. And all of that is over. There will never be another day with him, another hug, another stupid joke.  

I just want my life back.

I am tired of this pendulum between grief and joy. I’m tired of having a day full of amazing dissolve into wracking sobs for what feels like no apparent reason. My anxiety is at an all time high. I worry every time Joe leaves on a business trip that something bad is going to happen like it did that day in June 2019. I fear every day the loss of another child because I honestly don’t think I could live through another. I am a colossal mess of what if’s and worry and damn it, it’s exhausting!

I have built up walls and I’ve mastered the fine art of pretending. I’m an extrovert that has slipped into an introvert. My circle has significantly shrunk and very much on purpose. I need to feel safe and I don’t mean physically (although that’s important to) – I mean in groups of people and conversation. Self-care and protecting my family is at the absolute forefront of my mind at all times.

I am a self-proclaimed hot mess! And yet, as much as I fight against this new life I have been forced to live, I know that this too shall pass as I evolve into God’s plan. The goals and dreams I had for my life were clearly not God’s. He has a different plan for me. In Genesis 1 – “His plan is good because of the purpose it will serve. It is good because of the hope it will give. It is good because of the lives it will save.”

On a dragonflys wings and a prayer, I find myself living on faith. Faith that the advocacy I am doing is educating people, bringing more awareness to grief, suicide and mental health. Most days I am full of hope and know that even in those moments of desperate heartache, I cannot quit.

Grieving is lonely, yet you cannot do it alone

Grieving is lonely

Grief is uncomfortable.
When you grieve it is a constant struggle to capture the wide range of emotions that occur not just within a week or a day, but each dang minute. It’s struggling to figure out what kind of support I need when people ask. It’s figuring out what to say when people reach out. Grief is uncomfortable. It’s an awkward silence that is always there laying under the surface.

People never know what they should say to you. Heck, most days I don’t know what to say. I used to get angry at people for being awkward and weird around me, but honestly, grief is uncomfortable. And, I don’t have an answer to make it easier for you or me.

Here are just a few things I continue to tell myself every day…

Everyone has a different grief journey. There is no right or wrong.

I will never get over it; however, I will move through it.

Nikolai’s suicide was not my fault.

It is okay to smile and experience joy.

Do not allow people to shame you for not being the parent they think you should have been. They did not walk in your shoes and cannot possibly fathom your life or that of your son’s.

Keep writing.

How I decide to grieve is up to me. Don’t let anyone tell me how to do it.

Be patient with myself.

There is no timeline for grief.

Therapy is hard but you need it.

Grieving is lonely, yet you cannot do it alone.

Moving forward doesn’t mean letting go.

You will survive.

For those of you looking to comfort someone going through grief, please remember that the absolute most important thing you can do is just listen. So many of us are “fixers” and all we want to do is help the person grieving so we offer advice on how to get through situations. I don’t want you to fix me. You can’t fix me. Stop trying to fix me. Just hear me out. Let me cry, let me vent, let me talk, let me scream.

When someone you care about is grieving, it can be difficult to know what to say or do. We struggle with so many intense and painful emotions, including depression, anger, guilt, and profound sadness. And for many of us, we feel isolated and alone in our grief. Remember that it is simply your support and caring presence that will help those of us grieving cope with the pain and gradually begin to heal.

With deep love comes deep grief

The pain of grief

“The pain of grief is the price we pay for love.”

I don’t know where I read that quote but it feels spot on. As humans we love so deeply that when someone leaves our physical world, it brings on a pain that at times feels like your heart might literally break.

Yesterday we said goodbye to my grandma. My last remaining grandparent.

So much sad, and honestly, I am so tired of sad. This is not me. This is not how I want to be. I feel like I’m on this hamster wheel of joy and sad and I can’t get off. I know this is the reality of life, but could I please have a little more joy and less sad? Is this too much to ask?

They say God doesn’t give you more than you can handle. I want to say “uncle” right now. I’m glad He believes in me and my ability to hold it together when I need to; however, I really feel like I am hanging on by the thinnest of threads.

The intensity of my pain ebbs and flows as I assume it will for the rest of my life. Grief never goes away, we just somehow learn to manage it. Right?

Some days I fight the need to look to the heavens and scream the most guttural scream. The kind that sounds like your body just burst into a million pieces. Other days, I beg for silence and quiet to get me through.

Before my grandma died this week, I felt as though the joy-filled days were starting to outnumber the days of despair. This gives me hope. This feeling will not last forever. Joy happens a little bit every day, and while the loss and sadness will still show up, there is just too much happiness to be had.

Maybe we start by being present

Be present

I have sat through three suicide prevention trainings now and each time I take away a little bit more. While these trainings are amazing to teach us the skills to have a real conversation with those we think are struggling, for a parent who has lost a child to suicide it has become the laundry list of all the things I didn’t do right.

These demons have been with me since the night of June 20 but to hear them spoken out loud is hard. The guilt is so heavy. I’m working on not beating myself up with all the woulda, coulda, shoulda’s but it’s a real thing.

There were so many signs along Nikolai’s journey and I dismissed many of them to just being a moody teenager. Dropping out of sports, purposely failing school, disrespecting his family and his teachers, and becoming withdrawn. This was him literally crying out for help.

This is what it looks like parents. It can also look like a million other things too. We communicate with our kids but we aren’t really present with them. We have allowed being busy to take center stage of our lives and we have stopped giving importance to the real things. It’s become more about running our kids to sports practice, homework, who is spending the night at who’s house, video games, cell phones (theirs and our own), trying to fit in dinner, late nights, last minute projects, and the list goes on.

We sought the help of teachers, counselors, and a therapist. None of it was enough. His pain ran so deep that literally he thought his only way out was to take his own life. But maybe, just maybe if I had hugged him more, sat down and really listened to him, not been so busy. When all is said and done, I will never really know. But what I wouldn’t give for another chance to do it all again knowing what I know now. That is why I believe with absolutely every piece of me that God has set my compass to helping others see the pain in others and reach out.

Therapy is definitely helping me cope with the guilt. I don’t think that will ever go away; however, recognizing that reliving every wrong step with Nikolai is not serving me is what I have to say to move forward.

Since Nikolai died by suicide on June 20, there have been three more teens in northern Oakland County that have taken their lives. We have to figure this out. Maybe we start with just being present with our kids.  

Christmas is hard

This season of Christmas is harder than I ever could have imagined.

This season of Christmas is harder than I ever could have imagined. I knew it would be hard; however, I thought we would trudge through every day as we normally do – some of them good, some of them bad. I could not have been more wrong.

I have cried a little every single day since Thanksgiving. Every single day. I am snapping at people, saying hurtful things. I am angry, lonely and sad. Just so sad. I beg for your forgiveness. I beg for a little grace right now. I feel like I’m shutting down just a little bit more each day and it’s harder to pull it back together.

Last week I spent an hour sitting at Kola’s grave sobbing. Wishing so much that he was here. Christmas has always been his very favorite. He loves decorating the tree and putting the house lights up. He loves the parties, the company, the gifts, the giving, the traditions, the fun and family.

I find myself needing a break, but not willing or able to take one. I feel overwhelmed by everything. I am forgetting to text people back for days. I can’t put together a simple menu for family Christmas. Christmas shopping – ugh! I’m usually 99.9% done by Black Friday. I am really nowhere near done and I honestly don’t even have the energy to put into it. Christmas songs make me weepy. I cried pulling out each of his ornaments with tags bearing his name from his grandma and grandpa.

My heart is broken and screaming in pain. And, it’s not just me. All four of us are feeling it. Whether my children want to talk about it or not, a mom knows when they are hurting.

Two weeks from today is Christmas Day. We are doing all of our normal traditions. Honestly, we can’t imagine doing anything different. I already bought our tickets to see Star Wars on Christmas Day. But there is definitely a part of us that is and will be missing and it will be hard.

I know many of you also struggle this time of year. All I have to say is, you are not alone. We must give ourselves some grace and not feel bad about any of our emotions: good, bad or the very ugly. Immense love and hugs to all of you.

The need to stay busy

Downtime is sometimes too quiet for my mind

Truth.
So much truth here.
Downtime is sometimes too quiet for my mind. It makes me think all the things and I fight it so hard. If I’m busy there isn’t time to think.

This morning I got up, went to CrossFit and kicked my own ass. Super pumped and full of all those happy endorphins. But on the drive home I spontaneously combusted into tears.

This is my life. I try to ignore all the feelings but my body gives me the big 🖕 and makes it happen anyway.

It’s random and crazy and this is why no minute of my life is the same mood. It is what it is for now. Things are just different. I am just different. 💙

Celebrating National Son’s Day

Yesterday was National Son’s Day

Apparently yesterday was National Son’s Day💙 I have been blessed with three of the most amazing young men that I get to call my boys. Each one of them so different and extraordinary in their own way. And how appropriate that yesterday we walked in memory of one of my sons💙 I am so incredibly proud of Daley and Reilly for embracing the day for Beans’. They had an amazing time, surrounded by so many people that love them. Nikolai is proud and he loves you both so much, as we all do❤️ Happy son’s day you crazy three, I could not love you more😊

Therapy

Therapy

Therapy. I’ve been asked more times than I can count if I have started therapy. No. No I have not. Do I need it? Yes.

Here’s the thing though – all those emotions surrounding the what-if scenarios I play in my head every single day – therapy will bring those out. Good, that’s what it’s supposed to do. It helps you work through that. I get it. Really, I do. But right now, keeping those what-if scenarios locked up in my head and not speaking them out loud is one of the things I do to keep my sanity. What will happen if I let that shit out of the locked compartment in my head? I fear it will destroy me. And maybe it will at first and then get better. Sort of like when you cut your finger and you put a band aid on it. It hurts super bad at first and then eventually it heals. I’m sure this is how therapy works too.

But right now, getting out of bed and being a functioning person is more important than talking to someone about my feelings and turning into the pile of hot mess mush I feel I will turn into.

Trust me. I hear you. I really do. And eventually I will have to face some of my demons in order to really begin some form of healing. But for now, it is what it is.