I had been feeling the sadness in the background. It was lingering, but I held it back. I woke Sunday morning and I couldn’t stop it. The grief overwhelmed my ability to run from it. I cried all day. Tears spilling down. Silently. Loudly. I cried at church. I cried at Target. I cried shucking corn with my youngest and making dinner. At lunch, I just fell to the floor and sobbed. My sons worrying. I reassuring.
I was frustrated that this was happening. It has been 20 months. I should be moving on. He is. And so easily too. Why I am struggling so much? I feel as though it is the same song and dance. I am devastated over the end of my marriage. The pain making it hard to breathe. The betrayal hard to wrap my head around. I have forgiven him. I continue to everyday. So why? Why am I still grieving?
I am trying to make my feelings and emotions less. I am trying to push them aside and say I shouldn’t be feeling this way. As though the time limit to grieve is over. Times up. I see the anger that has been effecting me is more geared towards me. Because I am angry for letting what has happened and what is currently happening impact my life. I am angry because I am trying to make myself believe I don’t care anymore. But I do. For the love I had, for my former husband, marriage, and family we were, was great. And I have been trying to belittle it down. Maybe if it wasn’t my whole world, then it won’t hurt as much.
Trying to grab onto something, I reached out to a friend. I asked her on the days you feel like you won’t survive the grief, what do you do to keep going? Her reply, There’s nothing. You either sit and feel it until your done or you fight it and it comes back. I have been fighting it. I am so tired of feeling the sorrow and pain. I am so tired of missing what was and the loneliness of what is. I want to be done grieving. However, I never will be. The time between the grief will become longer and less intense. But it will never go away.
I am coming to accept that I will carry this grief with me always. I have to let myself feel it. For when I do, I am healing. I am moving forward. One day, I won’t have to carry it all alone. I will have someone special to hold me while I grieve. Love me when I cry.
My sons told me don’t cry mommy. They hugged me and kissed me. I told them it’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to cry. Mommy will be okay. They kept looking at me over and over again. They saw the tears streaming down my face. I kept rubbing their backs and showing them that although I am sad, I am still mommy.
Clearly, it is easier to reassure my children than it is myself. Right now, I see this grief as a weakness. I acknowledge the flaws of the past and the light of the future. I agree I am better off. For what was, was never good. Yet I grieve. Yet I hurt. I can’t run from it.