The pain in my heart is worse, constant, aching. I have never really experienced heart ache before. It is hard. I try to breathe, focus on it, live in it. But then anxiety joins the pain, and I can’t breathe, can’t think, don’t know how I will do this. Future unknown. Overwhelming.
Watching Eli suffer. Pretending. Smile. Are you still grieving, he asks? yes, my love, i say. But you can be happy and sad at the same time. Trying to believe that.
Still refusing to accept that Sidney is really gone, that this is my new reality. How can I do this? I don’t want to do this. No choice.
My heart breaks, aches, longs to hold him, to snuggle him against my chest, for this to be a bad dream. To be sleep deprived and happily nursing Sidney in my arms, while Eli acts out for attention, since his world has been disrupted, but in a normal way.
It’s not your fault, they say. But perhaps I could have prevented it. I failed in my one job to protect my baby. Failed in an unacceptable unchangeable no going back way. Intense longing. Buddhists say don’t be afraid of your emotions. I try to breathe, to concentrate on feeling the pain rather than fearing it. Unbearable, but it must be borne.
The grief counselors say my grief is still so raw, so intense, so new, that I need to be patient, that I have experienced a trauma, a tragic shock, that the feelings and reactions I am having are normal. But I don’t want this to be normal. I don’t want to accept that this is who I am now. Who we are. Marked by tragedy. That this will stay with our family forever.
One moment at a time. Just breathe. Breathe. Cry. but what is the point in crying when it won’t bring Sidney back?
Why is it that the heart hurts when someone dies? What does the heart do and why are the feelings located there? If grief and pain are physical, which they are, can’t they be alleviated? What is the science behind all of this, and why does no one really understand it? I guess I want answers, some way of getting on top of my grief. But I am learning that we can’t get on top of grief, but just have to live it, experience it one day at a time until we learn to live with it. My mind is split though, because on the one hand, I want to move beyond this minute by minute hell. But on the other, I want to suffer. How can things be bearable when Sidney is not here? I don’t deserve for things to be bearable without my son. My mind fights with itself, wanting to offer me relief but not sure how, and then wanting me to be in a misery that is reflective of the death of one’s son.
Just focus on my breathing. Breathe in. Breathe out. And repeat the words I told Eli until I start to believe them. Broken hearts heal. They always leave a scar but they do get better. With time and with love from friends and family they can heal. I have to believe that. Even as my mind fights both that Sidney is really gone, and that I should heal, that I should want to get better. I have to focus on Eli, and making my words true for him.