"What screws us up most in life is the picture in our head of how it's supposed to be."
It's been such an emotional week for me. Everything makes me cry at the drop of a hat, and everything makes me miss Jeremy. And as quite a contrast, I've been blessed with some really good things, good friends, and very thankful to be in a relationship that is accepting of those times for me and in turn has helped me heal in so many ways. It reminds me of a session I had back in the summer where my grief counselor had painted a picture of life after grief. She described a railroad track, one side of the track representing grief and pain, and the other side of the track represent joy and happiness. They run side by side, constantly and you can experience them both simultaneously. I will say that it is very draining. I have felt so tired the last few days, just wanting to sleep away the stress, not wanting to think about anything, and just fast forward a few months where a new transition in my life wasn't so complicated anymore. I know it will get there, but patience is not my strong suit.
I've had this idea in my head that I've never spoken out. I've carried this burden that because I was closest to Jeremy, I should grieve the hardest and the longest. I think I've got hardest covered: to rock back and forth on your knees, screaming, dry-heaving, because the pain of reality is so consuming it physically takes over your body is a dark place I will NEVER forget. I've never been so scared in all my life. And I know I will grieve Jeremy the rest of my life. Just knowing that all the pain that still goes on in my life right now, all the struggling through transitions, all this trying to find my place comes back to the fact that Jeremy is dead and is not here anymore is a sickening reality to face. But there was this perception that I need to hold on to that dark place because I loved him so much. It's the root of my guilt to wanting to find happiness again...that other people might have the same perception and somehow doubt my love for Jer.
I know 15 months out doesn't seem that long to some to start dating. But when you lay in bed alone every single night without your husband, it feels like an eternity. I've asked Steve a lot about being a grief counselor and the things he sees on a regular basis....and I am always shocked when he tells me how many people get remarried within a few months of their spouse passing. But what it really comes down to is that the people closest to the deceased are the ones most secure in the relationship with them and know them the best. When you have felt great love and you lose it without consent, you crave that companionship cause you know what you're missing. I know where Jeremy and I stood in our relationship, and I have peace about that. I am still grieving a future that I will never get to have. I am still grieving the fact that I will never share certain things with Jeremy, or that our children will never get to experience him in their lives again. That will never cease to cause me pain.
I realized that maybe I've ignored that fact that tomorrow Carter will be one (holy crap, I can't believe it), and in a few weeks will be Jeremy's birthday, then my nephew's birthday, then Faith's birthday...all in a row. My body and my heart anticipate these hard days before my brain ever realizes it. Today, I couldn't believe how far I've come since last year but I also see that I still have a long way to go. Sometimes, I would really like a break from all this emotional turmoil, knowing that it will follow me around, in one form or another, forever.
This post is a rambling one, with no cohesion. But that's how I feel today. I am hurt, I am sad, I am tired, I am grieving. But I am also thankful, blessed, loved, and looking forward to a new day to try this thing again. That, and a long cry and heartfelt conversation with my best friend, along with opening the door to these beautiful flowers from a really wonderful guy can sure help a girl along in the right direction...