When things do not make sense, unsorted, uncategorized…when people seem to be one step ahead or one step behind…We feel a bit “off”. I think I have felt this way my whole life. Not exactly on the same page as everyone else….dancing in the margins while others are focused and serious, and then laying flat out and despondent while they watch and judge. Somewhat of a free spirit on most days, singing to my own sheet music and writing my own words. Crazy? Perhaps in some eyes.
Messiness in our lives can weigh down our emotions and attitudes. Just the day to day stuff can become too much for anyone to handle at different times. Don’t sit back and cross your arms at this. I know every person on this planet has been overwhelmed at some point in their life if not frequently. I know I am a worrier, it just seems like it is my job within the family. I worry about everything. I analyze it, pick it apart, forward think it, backward think it, and stress over it until I can verbalize it. Moms do this, it is natural.
So, in my life there was always this feeling. Like something was going to happen. I never knew if it was good or bad, but the feeling was overwhelming. I am not trying to say I had a premonition into what happened to my son, I am saying I had insight into something life changing happening to me. And yes, recent events in my life have been life changing.
I have written about my journey, the days that I could not get up and the days where inspiration and energy were pouring out of my ears. To go from an emotional coma into a frenzy of endorphin overdose is exhausting. It also leaves more questions. Am I allowed to be happy, smile, have fun? Am I disrespecting my lost loved one because I have made plans to go to a comedy show? No, I am disrespecting anyone and I am allowed to live.
Permission to live, to laugh so hard it hurts, and to have good days only comes from us. I would say this is true while grieving and while NOT grieving. It starts within the frame of our minds and bodies. I did go ahead and give myself permission to live and to “feel”. You see it was becoming scary for myself…at times not feeling anything and thinking I was becoming numb to everything. I do not want that to happen. Permitting me to do these things, and have feelings was a milestone and somewhat of a personal break through.
So, what happens to my son’s memory in this quest to live? It remains. His memory and the memories that he and I shared together remain alive inside me. This is how I am a changed person. I am going through a trauma that is so painful that it can kill. I am left to not only keep my son’s memory alive, but keep myself alive in the process. I have to fight the darkness of grief that can suck you in and hold you in restraints. I have to be available to those I love, and those that need me. I am depended on, I am loved, I am still a mother, still a wife. I have my family connection. I have my hopes and dreams.
The trauma has taught me lessons of people mostly. The past year has been a relationship primer with lost friendships and lost family connections. I do not expect anything unreasonable from people, but I do sit and watch and listen. I draw a big picture and put current situations and conversations in the bubble. A bird’s eye view, wide and deep, can often times clue us in on what makes people tick.
Why would I care what makes other people tick? Why would I give a second thought to those lost friendships and lost family connections?
Relationships. I firmly believe that relationships are what kill so many people by suicide.
You have heard of the man that lost all of his money in stock trading and committed suicide? Was it really the money or was he hopeless of ever being accepted by his friends and family again?