Journey back

Along the journey of the last few weeks there have been distinct phases with an underlying current that entwines them.
It has been 8 weeks since Willie died. For all intents and purposes, the world shifted on February 1st.
Initially, the sense of surreal existence was paramount to all other emotions. It was impossible to be a reality because it was so unfathomable that what had happened could, in fact, have happened. I remember now that I would wake up every morning and look outside and be honestly amazed that another day had dawned – I was awestruck that the sun would continue to rise when NOTHING was as it should be in my world.
After a couple of weeks, the shock seemed to settle – seemed being the key word here….more on that in a bit.
Still incapable of the most basic day to day functions beyond necessity. My youngest son got to school and had a lunch in his backpack but I barely recall a single day or the acts that I must have attended to to make that happen. I was in a fog of thinking that if I just got up everyday and did what had to be done then eventually it would start to get easier and things would return to “normal”…maybe a new normal, but strongly resembling my previous normal.
Just past the one month mark and I was hit with an almost debilitating sense of despair and feeling that it WASN”T going to get better…that, in fact, I was feeling worse every morning instead of the same or even better. That maybe I would never be able to do the mundane life tasks that are an integral part of us all. Maybe I would never again be able to plan a meal, grocery shop and prepare said meal. There were so many times that I would stand in the grocery store with milk in my basket and stop and have no idea how I got there or what I needed or what to do. I would find a quiet aisle because I knew the tears couldn’t be held back. Tears that I shed for the simple fact that I wasn’t able to function and seriously feared that I never would be able to again.
I started to put simple things in my phone calendar with reminders because I would forget them. My short term memory was shot… my ability to make even the most simple of decisions, gone.
I finally decided to see a counsellor because I was quietly considering that maybe I was in a state of needing help myself.
The only help given from her was that I wasn’t abnormal in my feelings of “it’s not getting better – it’s getting worse”. Good to know but didn’t change anything!
The past 2 weeks have seen a decided shift in my perspective…everyday is still hell – the worst nightmare that I can’t wake up from every morning…but the despair is edged with a slight sense of a counter balance of hope.
The hope is a carefully examined and intricately dissected emotion…I have always been a “glass half full” type of person and this has so profoundly impacted that base in me.
To feel not true hope yet, but a sense that it is there and palpable and able to be found eventually is a turning point for me.
I have discovered a new truth today… so simple yet so strong of a pull for me with how it resonates within my soul….
I have been searching and mourning my inability to conceive of being “me” again… to even be able to conceptualize that it will happen. The truth is – it won’t happen – I won’t ever be the “me” I am struggling to regain.
I will never have all 4 of my children alive and with me in this lifetime. I will never be the Dawn who doesn’t know the pain of seeing her child’s lifeless, empty body.
The “me” I’m searching for doesn’t exist anymore – it’s a futile search that can only end in despair at not finding her.
The truth is that I need to learn to live my life as me now…the me that has experienced the loss of a life I saw come into this world through me…the me that will always flinch a little when someone asks how many children I have…the me that will always have that memory of when the world shifted when I heard the words that my son was dead…the me that had to go tell my other sons that their brother had actually done what we had tried so hard to stop him from….the me that saw their lives irrevocably changed in that split second and to know that they will never be the same again either.
I miss him so much…the pain is so much more than I thought I could bear…nothing will change either of those truthes…learning to live with that everyday and know that those truthes make up who I am now is key to be able to go on… to go on and find the “me” that still has a life and will live it.

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