This Journey is Different

This past week, I have been struggling. Struggling with a very deep sadness and flashbacks and every other emotion that comes along with me on this journey. I think I knew it was coming last weekend, when I told my husband that I was grumpy. He said “Grumpy? What have you got to be grumpy about?” I then changed my description from grumpy to just “blah.” When I am blah, I know more is coming.

I would imagine that some would say that my “blah” is depression, and they could very well be right. I own the fact that I can have depression episodes, however now they come with the grief. It is such a funk that you get into, and some days it is hard to imagine there is a way out. The one thing that keeps me pushing through these dark times is that I have a husband that loves me and supports me unconditionally, and a son that loves me and needs me still. I would never do anything to harm myself for I know that would bring such sorrow to those that I love, and I would never want to be the bearer of that for them.

When I say that this “Journey is Different,” I mean in terms of the overall effect the loss of Noah has had on me. I have lost my dad, my grandparents and a sister, as well as a very special brother in law and other aunts and uncles. Each of those losses hurt me to the core at the time of their passing. However, over time, I have been able to move forward and be grateful for the relationships I had with all of them and am truly thankful that they were a part of my life. But losing a child, that is a whole different level. I can’t even equate the feelings and emotions around losing him to the feelings I have had around other losses in my life.

I said to someone recently that I look around me and everyone is just carrying on with their lives, like Noah is just a memory. Now I know that isn’t true because he touched many lives and was so very loved, so logically I know that they miss him too, but it is like I am sitting on the fringe looking in and everything is so different. I sometimes feel like I am still living life “with Noah” and have the expectations I would when he was alive, like he will call me on my way home, or come bounding through the front door like he always did. I was told that I needed to carry on with my life now. Dammit, I am trying! Do people not see that? If you call me and ask me how I am, I tell you I am fine. If you need advice or help, I give it. If you need someone to listen, I listen. I don’t dump on people all my sorrow and woes. I carry on like everyone else, except that it hurts. It hurts to carry on living when your child has died. I have a social media presence that, for the most part, makes it look like my life is back to normal. My life isn’t normal, but I also don’t want to burden people. I don’t want to sound like a broken record and have people thinking that I “just need to get on with life.”

This past week, I ended up breaking down at work on the Monday, and ended up taking the week off. Not my best moment as I feel like I just left my team to fend for themselves, and I am suppose to be the example. That being said, my “team” are the most supportive crew I know. I feel like it still takes effort to do the regular things and I am mentally tired. I had been doing quite well, if I do say so myself, but it eventually became too much and I couldn’t carry it anymore. I have spent this week shedding tears and having memories flood me. For example, I decided to do some baking, and as I am mixing the batter, I start crying because I remembered baking with Noah and doing “shots” while we baked. (He was of legal age!) We had so much fun and so much laughter. I realize that this a great memory, but I am not at the point yet where I can laugh and smile about the memory because my heart still hurts. I am hopeful that the day will come when I can. I look forward to that day.

I am probably sounding like a song on repeat, and I would imagine that people have their own thoughts and notions about what this journey should be, but unless you have lost a child, you honestly couldn’t imagine, and for that everyone should be grateful. I have many blessings in my life and I am indebted to all of those that continue to walk this walk with me. I am sure it can be hard on you as well to see someone you love struggle, but know that without you, I wouldn’t be where I am today which is on my way to healing. If you want to help, speak his name, share stories. Bringing him up in conversation makes my heart sing. I want to talk about him, share him, hear about him. I wish I had a crystal ball to tell me when things will get easier but I don’t, so I will continue carrying on this journey until I am healed, and I hope you will continue to walk beside me.