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beautiful son, boy, broken, child, crazy person, crocodile tears, cry, dead, death, depression, dying, grief, grieving, heartbreak, heaven, honor, insight, journal, journey, little boy, loss, love, memories, memory, Mental Health, Mood, Noah, pain, sad, sadness, Sleep disorder, son, son noah, suffering, tragedy, writing
some days, like today, I wake up feeling pretty strong. I shower, get dressed and sometimes even wear make-up or accessorize. I get to work on time and I’m productive. I feel a sense of accomplishment and pride when I’m crossing things off my to do list and thinking about ways to improve processes or help my department and the company for which I work. It feels familiar; good.
Then, sometime in the afternoon I don’t know what happens. Maybe it’s the time of day that my mind would start to wander….what to make for dinner…what can I accomplish when I get home…that sends me back to the dark side. Maybe it’s that uncanny Mom-yearning we all feel when we miss our child. I love having photos of both of my children around me at work and I feel like it gets me used to the idea that he’s not really GONE gone…he’s just taken on a different form. It feels comforting to look at it that way: that he’s always with me. But once in a while, I will look at a photo…and I can’t help but think these awful things.
I look at his neck, where those thick tubes went to his heart for the life support machine. I look at his soulful green eyes and remember pulling back his eyelids and hoping for a flicker of some sort. I remember his hair and the feel of it under my lips. His hand slipping casually and automatically into mine when we walked together; later holding it and photographing it so that I could remember later on…
some days, I can’t even get out of bed. I wake up from restless sleep or maybe just a few minutes / hours of sleep and I hate that I woke up at all. I drag myself up and sometimes can’t even bring myself to take a shower. The responsibilities of the day weigh heavily on me and the day seems never to end, clouded by depression.
I’ve also started having the most horrific nightmares. I shudder to even remember them and could probably never actually speak them out loud. My subconscious unleashes a fury sometimes when I’m asleep and woo, let me tell you. It could rival any horror movie out there.
I know that I’m supposed to move on with life, and I’m trying. It’s just so difficult when the pain is so intense. When I’m feeling good, I get lots of things done and make grand plans to accomplish more (by the way, my idea of “grand plans” = clean the house, finish a project, etc.). But the strength always seems to fizzle out so quickly and the housework gets out of hand. Then I sit, depressed and overwhelmed, at the amount of things-to-be-done all around me and I just want to crawl in a hole. So much to do that I just want to say forget it all. Maybe I’ll feel strong enough later.
At some point, I think it would be good for me to sit down and try to envision what I want my life to look like. Instead of focusing on the black hole of despair that threatens to eat me alive, maybe I could try to inspire myself with some things to look forward to or work towards. Unfortunately, I’m still in a place where I need to work towards cleaning this house and getting to the grocery store. 😦 blech.