Life in the In Between

It has been 138 days.

138 days since my world crumbled.

138 days since that phone call.

138 days since the crime scene tape, emergency vehicle lights, and interviews with the detectives.

138 days since I have touched his face.

138 days since I have heard him laugh.

138 days since my son took his own life.

It has been 138 days and I am still living in survival mode. Just trying to get through one day at a time, so I can wake up tomorrow and try to get through another one.

I would call what I am doing "living" really. I am just dwelling in the "in between" space. That space between what my life was and what I hope it will eventually become.

But, the "in between" is lonely.

I am not sure when I am supposed to be able to get back to some semblance of normalcy, but I clearly have not gotten there yet.

Dishes pile up in the sink. Laundry piles up in the laundry room or on the floor of our bedroom. Dog hair and dust pile up in my carpet. Bills pile up on the counter. Oddly, money does not seem to pile up in the bank account....

And I just can't.

I can't find the energy to get it all done. I just don't have it in me.

See, what people don't necessarily understand about grief and trauma is that it is exhausting. It makes you sick and tired, physically and mentally. It drains you.

I don't know how to move on from here. I can't seem to get out of the "in between". I desperately want to, but I just can't seem to find the way out.

Blessings,
Meri