I don't usually write when my head is less than clear, but today
I will take a chance that it will be okay.
Yesterday was a dark day for me. I couldn't chase away the demons and I admit
that I was afraid I might not get through the day safely. I'm lucky because I'm able to recognize that these thoughts aren't healthy and I have talked to my psychologist about having a life line for times when they get tough. I reached out to someone I knew was safe, someone who would understand and just listen for a moment or two. That's all it took and I was able to get myself home and take some medication to calm down and I managed to fall asleep.
I know this isn't what Michael wants for us, but there are days when we don't have the control over our grief that allows us to move on.
I have to face the fact that my son is gone. He is never coming back. He will live on in my heart and the part of my soul that I share with him..but I'll never see his beautiful face and eyes again because he is on the mantlepiece in an urn.
You would think that after 18 months my coping skills would have improved. They haven't. I am still angry at certain people. I still dread seeing others. I'm thinking we need to make a move in our life now. We need to start to live for us, for the rest of our family as well. My daughter reminded me that Michael's daughter needs to see more than a sad, grieving Nana.
I need help with this.
It's all so difficult.
Time for some sleep.