Survival

I have come to a realization that allowing myself to stay in a deep, dark area of grief for a long time isn’t beneficial to me or my little family.  Of course, I do and will continue to let myself spend time feeling the emotions; to cry out my love for my child, to honor him, and to relive what memories I do have, but then I have to make a decision to climb back off the floor and return to my day the best way I know how.  The day’s in and outs of trying to survive daily are a struggle having PTSD and anxiety.  Having flashbacks of the day and night of his passing happen almost daily and without warning.  You can’t predict how you are going to feel in each minute and hour of the day.  Things will trigger emotions within you that will need to be let out.  The stages of grief really are like a rollercoaster… you’ll have your “ups and lows”.

• The 5 Stages of Grief by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross:  Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance.  Read more about Grief
• These stages happen in no particular order, and you will bounce back and forth between them like a ping-pong machine.  I also feel like shock, guilt, irritation and confusion should be added!!

I lived in that deep, dark place and didn’t think there was a way back to the surface.  I tried to help myself “get through” the grief with alcohol, medication and therapy (off and on) for a year, at least.  I wanted to feel the horrific pain, the excruciating despair.  In my opinion, that equaled the amount of love I have for my son.  Life would never be the same and didn’t seem worth living—even though I had my 5-year old daughter.  In reality, the alcohol and medication was making it easier for me to make the decision to end my life.  I just wanted to be with my son again.

So, one day I PROMISED Baron, Emma (and now Stella) that I would try and get “healthier”.  This “promise” happened when I was trying to get pregnant with our next baby.  I promised I would try and turn my pain into something positive.  I would stop drinking too much when I felt awful, I would exercise to relieve the stress, I would write about my feelings (or record them on my phone), I would focus on my kids and make them my priority, and the list goes on.  I knew (or realized) if I kept up with the way I was grieving, then I wouldn’t be able to care for the kids or my husband—let alone myself.

People always say, “There is no way I could live without my child.”  I still say that, especially when I start panicking about losing another child… but somehow-if you give yourself time to grieve and mourn the loss-you will pull through-BUT you have to do the work to make that choice.  It is anything BUT easy.  I read countless grief books, sought out support groups, read articles, joined Facebook communities, found ways to honor Baron and parent him from afar, etc.  You will have setbacks, you will go through the worst thoughts, the sharpest pain, the most unimaginable difficulties—but you CAN get there.  Let me add that I will grieve my son forever, but hopefully in a way that allows me to mourn and live and not mourn and feel the urge to give up.

I still wake up not wanting to put my feet on the ground.  I still lay there with my eyes closed trying to feel, smell, and see the memories with Baron.  Tears still roll down my face, the weeping and sobbing will continue… The triggers are STILL there.  The day we lost Baron, the moments and details are forever etched in my brain and heart.  The open wound still seeps blood, no band-aid could ever close the wound and make it normal again.  I still want to be with Baron, but now I realize I have two other children that need me.  And I CANNOT miss a moment with them either.  They need their mommy-they depend on me. And I want to believe that Baron needs me here to keep his memory alive.