Pleasantly Surprised

I was pleasantly surprised, but surprised none the less, to discover that people are actually reading this blog! Why would I write if I didn’t think people were reading it all along? Because it’s very therapeutic for me to write and get these thoughts out of my head even if no one else cares to know the inner workings of my brain!

So, since more than one person has told me that this blog gives them an insight into how I am doing, I will say it plainly –

I’m progressing.

There are bad days, not so bad days and even a few moments of laughter every now and again. Most importantly Tony and I have been seeing a counselor and she has been quite helpful. Mostly she’s helped me to understand the “lay of the land”. She reassures me that what I’m experiencing is normal or that various valleys won’t last forever.

Currently, I am fearful that these new positive feelings I’ve been having may mean that I didn’t love Nick enough or that there’s something wrong with me if I already have days when I can actually take deep breaths. But again, she encouraged me to enjoy the respite while I have it. Apparently, natural breaks occur during the grief cycle and instead of complaining about when or how they come, I should embrace them and use the time to regain some strength for the next bout.

For the most part, I do have a desire to survive this process and I’ve learned that is really the most major battle in the war. Just desiring to try to make it to the end of time without being swallowed up by grief is one of the lifelong goals of grief management. For me, it’s the act of falling into grief that is extremely easy.

Grief is like a well. It takes no effort at all to step over the edge and free fall for hours or days. Just sitting, remembering, looking at photos, being alone – any of those things usually lead to hours of tumbling through the deep, dark well of sorrow.

But if I want to stop, that takes immense effort.

Somewhere along the freefall I have to decide I want to stop – which is a seriously difficult choice to begin with. Then I have to reach out and grab a slippery root or jutting rock from the side of the earthen well wall. Those roots of hope can be grasped by putting the photo album away, getting up out of bed or choosing to talk or play with Selah.

Then I begin the exhausting climb to the top - pulling and stretching one agonizing inch at a time – grasping for the next root, jagged rock, or hand hold in the dirt – and struggling my way to the top. I take a walk, make a play date for Selah, go to the grocery store whether or not I need anything, read my bible and play a worship CD, type my thoughts for the blog…

But on some occasions I’m falling with no strength to stop the decent …

Then –mercifully - a hand reaches out from nowhere and whisks me into the light. That’s when a phone call breaks into my thoughts, a neighbor taps at the door or a friend comes by to spend a few hours listening.

I’ve heard that most people don’t want to bother us so they don’t call. They don’t want to intrude so they don’t stop by. They don’t want to interrupt so they don’t knock on the door. But I’ve found that the only time I’m safe from myself is when others are around and offer their time to sit and listen to what my brain has been doing to me lately!

I’m sure it’s very trying for those who have chosen to take the challenge!

But don’t be surprised if you leave a message and I don’t call you back.

When the phone doesn’t ring, I don’t take the time to go and pick it up. If I see the message blinking, I don’t feel like taking the effort to press the button. And when I do hear a message, I become like a teenage boy fearing the first conversation with the girl who’s stolen his heart. I don’t know what to say. I’m afraid that the conversation I’ve played out in my head won’t be the one that turns out to happen. I’m not sure if what I have to say is worth your time or even if you have time for me to begin with.

So, I waste the whole day arguing with myself whether or not I should call and never get up the nerve to actually pick up the phone.

So, that’s how I’m doing – in a nut shell.

Thanks to those of you who care and those who had the nerve to ask! You are braver than I!
Andi