I've been working on my healing theory. Trying to find new footing on unsolid ground. Lately, though you wouldn't know, I am DECIMATED with grief. Honestly if it were not for this zoloft/xanax combo I wouldn't get out of bed.
Sure, I paste a smile on and carry on, for the sake of my family. Mommy has to hold it together, as everyone else falls apart. But mommy is tired. Exhausted.
The smile, patience, and energy brought to you by zoloft.
But it's there. The grief monster. Right there under the surface. Trying to get out. Trying to strangle me. Trying to take me under, and suffocate me with its black tarry HURT. That punch in the gut, that take your breath away, that knowledge as you open your eyes every morning that you are existing on a planet without your child. Without your CHILD. The absolute MAGNITUDE of that. How do you swing your feet out of bed, rub your bleary, tear swollen eyes and get up? How do you BREATHE knowing that such a huge part of you is GONE? How have I, me, survived the past year? How am I still here, functioning? How will I continue in this world without Leta. How is my child dead, yet I am not?
How, why. What on earth? The loss is so complete, so ACHING. So cold. How am I not...I don't know.. Just. It's just too big.
