Intensity and anticipation

Recently, I have been very reflective about my grief journey. Thus far, it sometimes surprises me just how intensely I feel everything. If I get angry about something, I get very angry. When I find joy, it is intense joy. When there is am injustice, I want to right it, if at all possible. I’ve read that people almost actually miss the intensity of early grief. Most of the time, I don’t know how to feel and I can’t really anticipate much in the future because I try really hard to stay in today. When I go too far one way or the other, it’s too much for me.

With Christmas just passing, I realized so much of my anxiety came from the anticipation of it. How would I feel? How would I handle it? How could I be happy for my little guy while missing my big guy? At this point, it feels like the anticipation of an event seems a lot worse than the actual event. I’m not saying the actual event is always amazing or easy.

When I’ve been in an unfamiliar situation, I find myself anticipating someone asking me how many kids I have. Well I have 2 kids, but one of them died. When I’m around people who know our story, I don’t have to worry about this, but I get nervous to have to bring the conversation to that level. So far, I haven’t had anyone run away in horror. I’ve actually had people tear up instantly. It always shocks me to be the one delivering this horrific story. There are times that the weight of my grief feels so heavy that I don’t want to get into it. Other times, I am waiting for the question to be asked so I can tell them how amazing my sweet boy was. I really don’t know until the event occurs.

Ive already learned so much about myself, other people and grief. I have so much to learn but the most prevalent thing I’ve learned is that everyone has their battles. While I don’t feel the need to categorize whose loss or battle is the worst, because I know our loss is a huge one, losing our boy has made me empathize with others even more than I have before.

Trying to get through

The holidays. I’ve always enjoyed the holidays. I’ve never gone over the top with any of it but it has always been enjoyable. Now that our son us died, I am not enjoying myself one bit. I am not going out of my way to go see Christmas lights, I’m really avoiding the stores and I do NOT want to hear Christmas music. For some reason, I keep hearing a song by Pentatonix and the words are loud in my ears. This particular song says, “there can be miracles if you believe.” That doesn’t sit well with me. In our situation, that is not the case.

The holidays are a time focused on happiness and family and being merry. How can I be merry when my 7 year old isn’t here with us? How can I be merry when I only have 1 child to buy Christmas presents for? How can I be merry when I look under the tree and there are half the amount of gifts? Watching both of my boys open their gifts was always such a joy because I could see that I got them what they wanted and they were so happy and excited. I know our little guy will be happy and it will be a joy to watch him open presents but it will be painfully obvious that his big brother is not here and not getting to enjoy the holiday that every kid looks forward to.

Im finding myself just wanting to get through things now. I’m doing it for our little guy. I will have to do hard things all the time to make things happy for him even though I am destroyed. This does not feel good. It feels horrible. This has shown me that the holidays aren’t happy for everyone. I am a bit envious when I see pictures of people enjoying all of the holiday festivities and I’m just trying to make it through until the next way lay of my heart.