Monday, December 29, 2014

I don't believe in healed

I don't view healing the same anymore.

It's a forever, like grieving. It's just something that you're always in the process of. 

You slip and you fall, you open wounds that were faded away. You take strides and leap over mountains, and you take baby steps and one breath at a time. It's all part of the process. You're never the same again after surviving your trauma, you'll never be who you were before the trauma. It changed you, and some of what we survive changes us to our core. You can choose to find the person the change made you, embracing the newness of you with loving arms, or you stay stagnant in it and sink. And it isn't either or, cause sometimes you sink for a while before trying, and that's ok. I don't believe in healed, but I believe in healing. Healing is a forever.

Wishing everyone a peaceful new year, with lots of healing in whatever form you need it.

dedicated to my SSBT friends-you know who you are <3

Monday, December 22, 2014

Struggling to believe

For the last few months I've felt like there's nothing after this. I haven't felt Bram, I haven't gotten any signs. I've been feeling like you die and that's it, and I don't want to believe that. I want the comfort of an after life. I want the comfort, I want hope, I want the ability to make sense of this world and existence. But I haven't been able to have any of that.

Today, just this morning I saw 3 things: the first was balloons, on a baby carrier. The very same fabric was made into a blanket for Buttercup as a piece of Bram, the second was stumbling upon his name and his sister's name together, the third was a friend sharing the geese oddly occupying her street (Bram loved geese). And it hasn't just been today. A few days ago a friend suggested a children's book as she described it to me, I cried. "Mama kisses the palm of her baby's hand and folds it up and tells him, "Whenever you feel sad or miss me, put your hand to your cheek and think 'mama loves you, mama loves you' "" She didn't realize that as Bram laid in his hospital bed, time of death already called, I kept kissing his hand and holding them to my cheeks saying "mommy loves you."

It's been nice, and maybe it's just my mind reaching for comfort. Maybe it's Bram. I'm feeling him, real or imaginary I'll take the comfort. I'll take the hope.

Sunday, December 14, 2014

December 2014

Deep breaths

It hard updating here, though I want to share. I'm still in this weird place. My heart is tender right now, some days I'm ok, and some days I'm really low. Self-loathing reigns, and my humor is dark. I'm not loving this season, this time of year, the holiday. Which is weird cause Christmas is my favorite, like buddy the elf favorite.

But I keep breathing even if it hurts, and I keep putting my feet in front of me.

I don't know what this place of grief is, I feel really detached from Bram. I've turned my back on believing. I've given up a good chunk of hope for an after. I wish this wasn't going to be my life forever. I'm present though, I'm here and I'm in this moment more than I'm in that moment.

I find myself thinking about the killer, the one who mistakenly took his life, and wondering what that life is like, what that weight feels like. I can kind of see why the hesitance to not reach out, but it still hurts that it hasn't happened.

Lots of sleepless nights, and not for buttercup, just for me. Too many nightmares, too many thoughts they keep me up. I've had quite a few nights recently waking up in the middle of an anxiety attack. It's so scary, makes you not want to sleep. But this is my life now.

Mostly I miss Bram, I miss hearing his name every day, I miss saying his name, I miss his voice, I miss what should have been and could have been.