Skip to main content
i feel mad, i feel abandoned.  why did you bring me into the desert to leave me now?  why sustain me only to crush me underfoot.  there are a million questions and the answers come slowly (if at all)
it's like lightning (everything illuminated) and then l i g h t s o u t

oh i (don't) see.  oh i (don't) understand.  oh i, i, i.
it's not about i
its about you.
i see the flowers, i know i am worth more.
i see the birds, i know i am held closer


the lord is my shepherd, i shall not want
he makes me lie down in green pastures
he leads me besides quiet waters
he restores my soul
he leads me down paths of righteousness for his names sake
even though i walk through the valley of the shadow of death
i will fear no evil
for you are with me
your rod and your staff comfort me
you prepare a table before me
you annoying my head with oil
my cup runneth over
goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

treat it.

to everyone who has never been touched by suicide,

i get it.  i used to be like you too.  here are the most common views of suicide i either heard or personally held growing up:

that person is selfish
that person is crazy
that person is a coward
they wanted to die
they were depressed for a long time and finally went through with it
there are always warning signs, so people know it's coming
that it's preventable
THAT IT WOULDN'T AFFECT ME


there is this social stigma around depression, suicide, etc.  i can't tell you what it is like to not be able to talk openly about my husband's death.  to see people either openly or privately distance themselves from my pain, search for reasons that he did it beyond the fact that he was ill and we didn't catch it in time, connect dots that aren't connected.  all so they can convince themselves that they will never know the pain, and i honestly hope they don't- but it's possible they will.  i know people whose lives…

loss.

most of my life feels like a nightmare right now.  i wake up and live a day filled with loss and then sleep a night filled with nightmares.

elly would have been two months old yesterday.  i thought about the monthly pictures i was going to do with her- taken with her bunny lovey and wept.  i thought about how she won't get a first birthday party, or ever get to run or walk, won't say momma, won't wave out the window while her sister and brother go to school...  and then i thought about how i could have born all of the weight of losing my child if only my husband would have stayed.

that morning when he walked out, we didn't touch each other.  i was preoccupied with getting the kids breakfast and assumed he was pulling in the trash cans.  i don't know why things didn't go differently- why i didn't say something or pull him in for a hug or why i didn't hear the car door slam.  the why's in this situation could swallow me, very easily actually.

i keep …

the path.

have you read the children's book "we're going on a bear hunt" it's an old one, this family encounters all these obstacles on a bear hunt and each time they say "we can't go over it, we can't go under it, oh no we've got to go through it"

that's where i'm at.  there is a path laid out in front of me, a path to healing, to being made whole, but it's going to hurt like hell to get there.  i can literally see the pain waiting for me and i'm scared.

scared of what it's going to be like when i clean out his drawers
scared of what it's going to be like when i give his stuff away
scared of what it's going to be like when i find a job
put my kids in daycare
go to bed alone every night and wake up alone every day
being a single mom



the beginning of grief is akin to what i imagine drowning to feel like.  in between numb these waves of intensity hit you with the force of a storm.  it's physically painful, when elly died…