My heart is with you

I find myself struggling to move through the pieces of trauma still fresh in my mind.

In quiet moments, I find myself re-living life at the hospital.
I think about the 'what if's'.
I feel guilty Brooklyn's journey was so favourable.

I cry a lot.

Take today, for example.
I cried because our priest told my son he was a gift to my husband and I, as his parents.
I cried because my son made an honest, yet embarrassing mistake.
I cried because I fought with my husband.
I cried because I was grateful for the love of my family and friends.

I feel angry a lot.

When life throws a curveball, I want to scream.
When I forget for the fifth time in a day, I want to throw something.
When my children press my buttons, I lash out with mean words.

The interesting question that has been ruminating is this:

Am I reinforcing or releasing my emotions?
Am I enabling the cyclical behaviour of repeating my feelings, or am I recognizing and accepting my feelings, then letting them go?

With trauma and grief, we still have some control.
It pains me to admit this, because over the last few months all I've truly wanted to do is crawl into bed and sulk, alone, in the dark.
But it's true.

During the trauma, most of us manage quite well.
Call it autopilot.
Or adrenaline.

But when the dust settles, we struggle.
When we realize what is lost - our mother, our daughter, our health, our normalcy - it is our minds that go into overdrive, processing and analyzing and storing the complicated mess of feelings inside each of us.

It is then, knee deep in our grief, we must take control.
We must ask ourselves, are we acting to accept our feelings?
Because if we can do so, we can move to release them.

Or, are we reinforcing them?
With food. Alcohol. Guilt. Unworthiness.

The truth is, I'm stuck here.
I can observe how I feel, but I am not yet capable of accepting the range of my feelings..

I don't have an answer to the question 'Is it ever going to get easier?', but I am grateful for the realization that life is uncertain at this time. Somewhere between observing and accepting feelings and emotions, I hope to discover healing in letting them go.

So.
For my friend who's lost her sister-in-law.
For my sister-in-law who's daughter never lived outside her womb.
For my friend who watched her mother pass away before her eyes.
For my friend who's daughter died too young, after such lengthy illness.
For my friend finishing radiation therapy.

My heart is with you.
My grief is your grief.
My love extends to you, as it does to me.

One hour. One day. One week at a time <3