One step forward, two steps back

I've come to realize that everyone who loses a loved one so close has moments like these:

One step forward, two steps back.

I've been trying to figure out why everyone thinks I exude such strength in this whole process. Most of the time I feel so weak and wonder how people can think I'm strong when I barely want to live through the day. I know God can use the weak to lead the strong, and just had to trust that God is using me in my weakness when I'm not even aware.

But I've also realized that it's the facade I create. The only time I really truly feel like I can grieve is when I'm alone, and I'm not often. I love all the incredible people around me, and I know any of them would cry with me if I needed them to, but it's not my personality - I've always had anxiety about crying in public and I know somewhere deep down I feel like I need to be strong for others. It's not their fault, it's just the way I'm wired and no matter how much I want to cry, I usually swallow it down.

I've also had a lot to keep me distracted since Jeremy passed away. The last four months have been absolute craziness, so much happening between funerals, tying loose ends, holidays, birthdays, births and events, I've barely had time to just take everything in. Now that I've survived giving birth to our son,  I should have expected reality to seep in.

I'm definitely enjoying my time with my new little man, but I've been given a fresh dose of reality and another dose of postpartum hormones - which is not a good combination for my emotions. I've just been very weepy and the fact that Jeremy really is gone keeps popping up in my head. Like the annoying kid in class who sits in the front row, jumps up and down with his hand raised shouting "pick me! pick me!" - I want to ignore it, but it's right there in my face: My love is gone forever. Even writing it out now physically hurts and brings me to tears.

So, that's how I'm feeling now: Like I took a step forward surviving so much, and now, taking two steps back experiencing the gut-wrenching daily reality of the agony that comes with losing a life. Especially when the life felt like half of mine. I feel like I'm walking around half-dead. Just wish there was something I could do to ease this pain a little, just for a moment.


Lesle said...

I'm the oldest of six siblings, so being strong for everyone has been a lifestyle for me. So I know about crumbling, licking my wounds, in private too. My mom, my best friend, died when my son was only a month and half. Everytime the reality, the fact, that she was gone would punch me and take my breath away and reduce me to tears, my son would need something from me. Everytime. I truly believe in God's provision to get you through the pain. Whether its a randomly crying child or a person that needs you to be strong. One step forward, two steps back, it doesn't matter, just feel what you feel and trust that one day you'll get your breath back and everyone will be stronger for it...hold onto Jeremiah 29:11

sherene said...

Hang in there, it will get better soon. Praying for you and your family.

Sarah Hannon said...

Still praying you ya hun.

white collar | green soul said...

Your strength has been shown in your honesty, your openness. It takes a lot of courage to express yourself honestly, and each time you write, you talk of your weaknesses and your hardship and brokenness. Not every one woudl be able to share such things and your willingness to do so has, I'm sure, helped people experiencing loss as well. It takes strength to admit weakness and even more to accept it.
Sending prayers to you, always.
- agata.

My Husband's Watching TV... said...

*Hugs and prayers* Vee! We love you. I also think you're an amazing, very strong woman and your kids are very lucky to call you mom.

Kim said...

As always, prayers coming from this stranger :) Know that your new little man, and your family, are drawing strength from you and you from them.

Kendra said...

thinking of ya'll everyday..much love!

Anonymous said...

What a small world! Mark lives behind by daughter and he and his wife are good friends of theirs. You don't know me, but I've been been touched by your writings as well. Our family wishes comfort and peace to you.

Vicki said...

All of us wish that for you, Vee. We're just praying that those days will come sooner than later and that we're doing our part while we wait. We love you. Your honesty, your strength, your weaknesses and your brokenness. Always.

Jo Julia said...

I hear you...keep having a few days where I feel hopeful and I get this- then all of the sudden it hits me totally afresh and I feel incapacitated and absolutely overcome with grief.


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