I am alone in a sea full of friends and family. Everyone wants to see me better and thinks I can put the loss of my daughter behind me quickly, but I can’t. No one was as close to her as I was. No one felt her last movements. No one felt her fall out all alone. I did. She deserved better than that. I’ll never get to hold her again, see her again, feel her again.
Tears come down like a dam has broken and I can’t stop them no matter how hard I try. Everyone expects me to be “on”; to deliver a joke, make ’em laugh, be silly – always the comedian. I can barely be a wife and mother sometimes. I can’t be everything for everyone when I can’t even be myself for me.
I’m trying, I truly am. But most of my time is spent alone and that’s never a good place to be whenever grief is involved. I go to therapy again tomorrow. I hope we get more into my grief and how I can go one day without sobbing uncontrollably. I know I need to celebrate the small victories, but they come few and far between.
I don’t know where to go from here.
You are a tree and each leaf is a thought,
a word to describe how you are feeling.
But there are too many leaves and fall has
come and gone. So you stand looking to the
sky and asking why you must feel so much.
But if you look around, you will find there are
many other trees with many more leaves.
You must let go of the ache and place a gentle
hand on your heavy heart. Take pride in how much
you’ve grown, and just remember you are not alone.
– Courtney Peppernell