Why is there no term such as “giving death to a child,” for it is the same sentiment? It involves the labor, the fight, the surrender, the same pain as giving birth, only in reverse. Life comes into this world in agony, it leaves with the same.
How can we say human life in the interim is not worth all that we give it? To live with fullness? To infuse every day with joy?
If you have endured tragedy, if your heart has been ripped apart, if you’ve been lower than you ever knew to be possible and you are still breathing, still waking, still thinking, then you are capable of dreaming. Not only are you capable of dreaming, you become capable of achieving greater than you ever before thought possible. When you have lost that which you didn’t think you could endure to lose and survived; you earn the antidote to failure. You confront Fear in the arena and you are offered the choice to become a Survivor if you choose…but only if you choose.
There’s a dead spot in my heart.
It’s like a dull wooden spot that has calcified. Like, The Chronicles of Narnia when the witch freezes over the characters and they turn to stone. My heart is hardened over, blue – but I’m still very much alive.
I am dead within being alive.
The thoughts of I wish never stop. I wish I would have put you in high school classes, I wish I would have gotten you a mentor. I wish I would have stayed home.
The wishing never stops, Jamison. It’s a wish that pushes up against the calcified portion of my heart and burns through like a firefly trapped in a glass jar; bumping, bumping, bumping against the colorless wall but never escaping its prison.
All My Love,
It’s 8:06pm. Breathe.
You really never know where life is going to take you. I spent a lot of today wishing I could drink myself into unfeeling grief. I wish I could tell you that I go through every day happy and joyful, with positive thoughts running through flocked meadows…but the reality is. I don’t. I work at it. I try to recognize when my head is going down. I spend a lot of time and money on therapy. I’ve walked through this past six months focusing on reframing and all that proven neuro-science brain reprogramming. This post isn’t to lessen the fact that what we believe creates our reality. This post is only to say that I am just like you and to be. Being me, flailing myself in front of you..tearing off all my exterior makes me feel known. That’s why I do it. It comforts me and I know sharing all my shit…comforts some of you.
I’ve spent a lot of time in conflicted thought over openly sharing who I am, all the good and the “bad” and balancing my business; part of which entails coaching entrepreneurs toward their life and business goals. I am a good coach. I am very good at what I do. My clients see great results, but the reality is, I am very human.
Sometimes all the positive thinking in the world can’t keep us from feeling the pain that’s part of being here.
Death affects us all.
Loss affects us all.
Depression affects us all.
So far since losing Jamison, I haven’t drowned myself in alcohol for days on end or looked for a tall tree (ok, not more than a couple times.)…by God’s grace. I share my life with you because I want you to know that you’re not alone. Actually, I want to know that I’m not alone. We all want to feel like we aren’t alone.
Losing a child hurts like hell. As a mother you feel like you failed. You feel like protecting and nurturing that child to adulthood…the only job you were entrusted with…you couldn’t do. When you couldn’t make your relationship work and you made choices you never thought you would; when things ended in a way you never expected. You feel alone. The reality though, is you’re not alone…and yeah, thank God, I’m not alone either.
It’s ok to depend on the people around us. We need them. Times in life like these teach us humility and dependence. Independence is a false sense of control. Codependence, no matter what our psychologists say, is necessary to our survival. Falling into someones arms is the best thing you can do sometimes. Let go. Stop being so strong. Don’t do alone.
All My Love,