Wednesday, October 24, 2018


Since changing the focus of this blog, it has allowed me to focus on other things in my life that I need to talk about. So here is what happened to me today. You will either understand or you won't, but if you do, then I am sorry because it means you are hurting too. It is almost Halloween, which means like many of you I began watching the new hit Netflix show "Haunting of Hill House".
If you are watching it too you probably are hiding behind your fingers, jumping at every ghost and spooky noise. It's a horror movie... plain and simple.
But not for me.
It is the story of a family of five siblings dealing with the grief of losing their youngest sibling. The initial shock, the funeral, the anger, the pain, of sitting in a room with your 3 siblings in front of the body of your 4th, knowing it's the last time all 5 of you will be together.
I have barely cried in the last 8 months, maybe a few times, here and there, BAD DAYS as I like to call them. "Please leave me alone it's a BAD DAY".
I know that a lot of people talk about triggers, triggering trauma, be careful of trigger words... and I have dealt with it before, when I lost the baby, watching other friends deliver healthy beautiful babies, sobbing at the kitchen table rocking back and forth.
But today, this trigger hit me so hard. Maybe because since March I have locked all my feelings up so tight in a little ball. Deep down inside where I could forget about them and keep being a good teacher, a good mom, a good wife.
But this hit so hard. The imagery was exact. Take away the supernatural elements and you had a funeral home that looked almost exactly like the one we sat in 8 months ago, with 4 siblings trying to say goodbye and not lose it entirely. And I did... lose it entirely. I broke. Sitting there in my bed next to my husband, watching a dumb horror show, I broke. I sobbed and sobbed like I haven't  since the funeral. Even after my tears slowed I laid in my bed too broken to get up. Finally I did and I went about slamming pots and pans, hacking up squash with a clever and punching my cupboards. Then I cried more, angry crying. I was so angry. So sad. So tired. It was the worst of the BAD DAYS.
But in the end you pull yourself up, you have kids to feed and things you do, a job and people who count on you. So today will be just one more BAD DAY TO add to the pile. You dust yourself off and move on. Grief is like that.

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