I didn’t realize how sad I was until my grandmother died. Its as if the day she died every moment of grief I have ever experienced in my entire life bubbled to the surface and spilled out of me. I cried over things that happened 34 years ago as well as for things that I have only recently found out about. I found emotions I did not know I had. If I had to describe this time in my life with one phrase it would be “Desperately trying to get out of bed”.
We all have days where we wake up and just pull the covers back over our heads. Sometimes its because we were up too late the night before, sometimes we dread what we know we have to face that day and sometimes its because of overwhelming sadness that wont allow us to function easily, if at all. That’s where I am, life has been a lot of effort lately and most days I would rather not participate. Sure, when I am up and moving around I look like I am doing ok. I laugh, I talk, I show great concern for others but when I get home, I hide in my room, lay in my bed and cry. I cry because I am mourning, I mourn the loss of my mother who I never knew, I don’t know her voice, her laugh or her smell. I mourn never having the opportunity to be a daughter to loving full time parents. I mourn my unborn and likely never born children. I mourn the decline of my health. I worry about the what ifs. What if this is my life when I am 60? Who will take care of my brother if…? I worry that I am a failure, That I have wasted my life and didn’t even realize it until now. Am I good enough for tomorrow? Do I really even care?
Tomorrow I plan to wake up and get up. That’s a good sign and a good start. I don’t know what happens after that but at least I will be out of bed.
The last two years have been rough on me.