It has been a good week. A whole week! I feel so grateful and blessed. This is the first week in 5 months that I have spent more time in proper clothes than in my dressing gown. I am making progress. Okay - I know I must be careful not to get ahead of myself. My therapist says I might have a few more setbacks before I manage to start 'walking' (I mean this emotionally) again, but I am so pleased with this progress and I believe, truly believe, that any setback I suffer will not be the same as the gaping, dark hole I have come from.
I miss Zane. I miss him so much. I am sad that I don't have the opportunity to see him as an adult and have that kind of adult relationship with him. I am sorry that he isn't here to see his brothers. But, I know that I can find peace and I am on the path going in the right direction.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Infinite Realms of Darkness
Where have I been?
I wish I could say 'between the devil and the deep blue sea' or 'between a rock and a hard place.' Those would be easier places to be. Where have I been? Between an abyss and the infinite realms of darkness.
Of course, there is no preparation for this place - the Infinite Realms of Darkness. No. You think about it, you hear about it, but there is simply no way you can imagine it.
The 5 Stages of Grief. Ha. That's like implying they're stages to be set and performed on with an audience and applause.
The only sound I hear on this stage is the deafening silence of a voice with no sound. A voice I will never hear again. The lights went out. There was no applause.
And let me tell you - if one more person tells me 'He's in a better place', I will assault them. Do people really think I give a flying f**k where he is? No, I don't. All I care about right now is that he isn't here. And when I have woken up in the middle of the night, with the icy hands of grief tightening around my neck, gasping for breath, with images of my beautiful son wandering bewildered around a heartless cemetery, believe you me, I cannot possibly believe that there can be a better place for him to be, than in the arms of his mother.
I wish I could say 'between the devil and the deep blue sea' or 'between a rock and a hard place.' Those would be easier places to be. Where have I been? Between an abyss and the infinite realms of darkness.
Of course, there is no preparation for this place - the Infinite Realms of Darkness. No. You think about it, you hear about it, but there is simply no way you can imagine it.
The 5 Stages of Grief. Ha. That's like implying they're stages to be set and performed on with an audience and applause.
The only sound I hear on this stage is the deafening silence of a voice with no sound. A voice I will never hear again. The lights went out. There was no applause.
And let me tell you - if one more person tells me 'He's in a better place', I will assault them. Do people really think I give a flying f**k where he is? No, I don't. All I care about right now is that he isn't here. And when I have woken up in the middle of the night, with the icy hands of grief tightening around my neck, gasping for breath, with images of my beautiful son wandering bewildered around a heartless cemetery, believe you me, I cannot possibly believe that there can be a better place for him to be, than in the arms of his mother.
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