Thursday thoughts

These past few weeks have been reminiscent of the months following Michael's death.  I'm not able to "get a grip" on my emotions.  Trying to figure out what's caused this and the only thing I can think of is: nothing.  I'm guessing it's part of the path of grief. Maybe not, does anyone have any ideas?  Even my garden isn't offering consolation because all the bits of empty space are full, nothing is really blooming because we don't have enough sun and my eyes are constantly drawn once again to the spot Michael chose to take himself away.  I can't get that picture to leave my brain.  Thankfully I don't dream that picture so I have respite from it when I'm sleeping but it haunts me during my daytime hours.  It's like someone took a snapshot, animated it so it had arms and legs and could talk and whenever I am doing something or thinking something the snapshot jumps up and down in the background yelling..."Hey, look at me, look at me!!!"    Is this part of the PTSD I'm diagnosed with?  When will it take a quiet back corner and allow me to remember my beautiful son when he was happy? 

My doctor has upped my antidepressant and my anti anxiety meds but I know that meds aren't the only answer.  Prayer?  Yes, I pray: for strength, for peace, but we don't always get what we pray for..we just hold onto the belief that one day we will.  In the meantime what gets us through? 

When I'm out and about I feel like such a fake because on the outside I smile and talk and on the inside I'm curled up in a ball saying "take me home". 

I live for my visits with my granddaughter here and my family who aren't here.  We only get my granddaughter here one afternoon a week unless there is a special occasion and we ask specifically for her.  If we didn't ask for her I don't know if we would ever get her.  Yet those times with her are so special.  I would move from here tomorrow were it not for her.  Too many memories in this small town jump out at every turn.  I hate it.  I really do. But our granddaughter needs to know her Daddy and her Daddy's family so we stay, at least for now.

I realize this blog serves as emotional purging but it's the reason I started it.  What comes across as quiet typing is actually screaming inside my head.  Seeing what I'm thinking come up on the screen as I type has a calming effect on me...it gives me a sense that I still do have some control.  It means I haven't taken Michael's baseball bat to the walls, the windows, the dishes.  I've gotten through another day without taking my grief out on someone else.  As my oldest daughter would say, I've gotten through the day without making it worse.  It would be such an easy thing to do, to make it worse.  How easily I could cause damage and probably be excused because at times I feel a bit less that in control.  But what purpose would that serve?   I wouldn't hurt any less for having hurt someone else. 
And I need my children and grand children to know that we can all be stronger that those around who are hurtful. 

Mikey, can you hear my rants?  I've talked myself in a circle today but I'm okay now.  I love you.  I'm angry at the things you were angry at, the unfairness and the cruelty shown you, the lack of understanding and the refusal to attempt to understand, the disposable attitude you were shown by some.  But I will be strong for you because for as long as I live I will tell people the beautiful side of you as well. 

Ativan and a cup of tea will get me through this day.

Thanks for being out there for me.