Thursday, February 14, 2013

That moment when you realize your grief has become too much for everyone else to handle

I'm there. I've hit that wall.

I've hit the wall where I realize that this isn't going to get better. I can't fathom this pain not ending. I listened to my mom describe her chronic pain due to fibromyalgia and she described how this feels, physically, perfectly.

I often wake up with a weight and breathlessness that is so big I think I'm drowning. I question how I'll survive another day, and when I do I dread having to do it again. And then I do.

I can't stop eating, I can't stop sleeping. I'd spend recklessly if I had the money to do so. I'd drink all the wine if I had the money to do so. I want to escape, I want a break from this pain, but I'll never get it except for the moments of numbness.

I think it might of been a comment on here, it was mentioned "I don't want my kids to say, oh you should have met her before" I'm failing at that one. They will say that, and I tell them often I would hurt and be just as broken if I lost them. The are so empathetic, so understanding. They don't question when I fall into a puddle of tear soup. But I'll never be as I was before.

I'm so sad, and so jealous his killer will get a break. This person will be able to move on, and be able to mostly forget. Thats not ok, when just looking at my boys reminds me. Hearing them, and not hearing him too reminds me. It's not ok that this person gets away with it.

I don't think people get it. The things you're saying are cutting through me. They hurt. Don't try to use logic on me. Grief is a 3 year old, you can not be logical with a 3 year old. And oh how I looked forward to his 3rd birthday. I love 3 year olds, I love their illogical ways. I hate that I'm missing his.

The 3 month mark is Sunday. I'm not ready. Time keeps ticking. My heart keeps pumping. My lungs keep exchanging gases. Completely against my will. I'm not ready for life to go on. I'm not ready to say goodbye to my baby.

So here I babble, alone in my grief, minutes until tomorrow. So happy valentines, may your heart never be as broken as mine.


  1. I love you so much. I wish I knew how to make it better. I pray that comfort finds you. and holds you....until you can breathe again.

  2. Oh sweetie, I just want to take you in my arms. I want to make it all better for you. So many people you don't know are out here praying for you, walking beside you silently. You are not wrong in your feelings. It's because you're such a good Mom that this is so incredibly hard. Everything about this situation is wrong and every cell in your body is feeling it. Nobody should have to go through what you're going through. There is no right or wrong way to grieve. What you are feeling is honest and real. YOU are his mama, don't let anyone tell you how you should be. Remember, John 11:35 "Jesus wept". He cried when his friend died. He understands your pain, he knows the depths of your agony. He is walking with you, no matter how long that walk is..he is with you. There is no rush. Sending prayers and love your way.

  3. My fellow mama, I wish for peace and comfort to find you and your family soon. To help fill the emptiness in your heart; to help heal the anger in your soul; to help ease the pain in your mind. Know that every mama who finds your blog sends you these wishes, along with a little piece of her heart. Use those pieces to rebuild yours. xx

  4. ive read and re-read your words so many times... Feb 13th marks 8 years since I lost my baby girl. I never got to hold her, I named her after she was already gone. I don't talk about it...but I write. I pour the emotions onto paper till they overwhelm me...your courage and strength to share such raw emotion is amazing and inspirational. My heart pours out to you... Don't ever hold it in... Don't feel guilty for letting it out... Only I miss my daughter, i alone hold my grief...and alone is a cold, terrifying place to be. You are not alone and although that may not give you strength all the time, please know you have given me, and I hope many others, the courage to grieve, the strength to feel and to release... You have inspired me and for this I truly thank you.

  5. If you have anything to offer your kids after such a tragedy, that's an accomplishment. You are forever changed, but still, your children will know that the only reason you ever rose from the bed again was for them. They will know that you would have liked to crawl into a hole and never emerged, to crawl into his urn and stayed there, but that you didn't for them. Anything else you do is a bonus. They will see your grief for their brother means love and, as you said, that you would have grieved just as hard for them. It is to be expected. It is also still so, so early. I can tell you that the adult children of my grandmother, who lost her three-year-old daughter to fire among other tragedies, felt loved and cared for by her despite the fact that she struggled with depression, attempted suicide, and made many other mistakes besides. They are all still close-knit. So, don't feel guilty for not having 110% to give after your life has been shattered. Most of us don't have nearly that much to give even though nothing terrible has happened to us. You're breathing and that's enough.

  6. I have no idea who you are, your blog just turned up on my facebook feed. I am so sorry Bram died. From a stranger on the other side of the world, grieve till the world ends. Your child died. The world doesn't get any worse than that. Much, much love to you.

  7. I just found your link on the site. I read every post. Your little boy sounds like a wonderful little angeI. What a brave thing to immortalize him through this blog.

    My daughter is 3.5. She is my whole world. Ever since she was born she has been my angel, and every single day I fear losing her. I haven't, so I really have no idea what you are going through, but that early post about safety being an illusion really hit me.

    All I can say is that my belief has got me through that fear. I believe that if my angel were to die, she would go straight to live with God and Jesus; no judgment needed. I believe that she would be happy there and at peace. I believe that my family has been sealed together forever, so that when I die, I will be able to be with her again, and be able to be her mama forever. I believe that we cannot go through any type of pain that Jesus did not experience. Because he has gone through the pain of a mother losing a child, and the injustice of then killer just walking away, I believe he can bring comfort and peace to a mother who is going through the same thing. I believe these things with all my heart, and hope that by posting this I might be able to share some of the peace I feel when I think about these things.

    This post, about your grief being too much for others, reminded me of a father who said something similar. I hope this helps.

    Sending lots of hugs. You are so much stronger than you think you are.


Thanks for reading and loving Bram!