Lies We Tell Ourselves

So, as we travel this unchosen (and also unwelcome) road of grief, I have learned that many things I have always believed to be true about the loss of a loved one are, in fact, not.  They are lies we tell ourselves because the truth may be too difficult to bear.

Grief is only an emotion.
This is what I have always believed. Grief is an emotion, like happiness or sadness, that was entirely controlled by one specific circumstance. But grief is so much more than that. Grief is emotionally, mentally and physically exhausting. It drains my physical energy, and as that is waning, my mind sinks into a depression that I cannot seem to push away. I have a difficult time concentrating and remembering things. Sometimes it feels like I am in a state of suspended animation where the rest of the world goes on as normal and I cannot get back on track. Sometimes it feels like everything is just harder than it needs to be. This effects every single aspect of my life. every.single.one.


Time heals all wounds.
There will never, in my life here on earth, be a time when this pain of the loss of my son will not hurt like a fresh wound. In fact, as I travel this road, I am finding that it is getting harder to deal with Logan's death as time goes by.

He's in a better place, and that should be comforting.
Imagine a wall so high you can never hope to see over it and so dark you can not possibly see through it. Now imagine that your child is on the other side of that wall. You can hear them sometimes, you can feel there presence, but you cannot reach them. Perhaps someday the fact that he is in Heaven will be comforting to me, but right now I just want to hug him and feel his face against my cheek.

Call me anytime, I am always here for you.
Now before you get your nose out of joint, this is not directed to anyone specific. I am not trying to insult anyone and I do not expect (or even want) the level of attention we had in the days following Logan's death. However, I will say that it has become too quiet for me. I am naturally an introvert, so I have a hard time reaching out even when I have a need to. I also understand that people don't know what to say to me. Do you talk about Logan? Do you just ignore the elephant in the room? I don't know what to say to myself most of the time. What I can tell you, when a family has experienced the sudden, tragic death of a loved one, the support needs go well beyond the days, weeks and months that follow the loss.

I don't know how to navigate these uncharted waters, but I am thankful for my God, my husband and my friends and family who have supported us during this incredibly difficult time.

Blessings,
Meri