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7 Months.....


aperson

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People keep saying that with time the grief gets easier. That the triggers are less.  I am not finding that to be so true. It has been 7 months since she passed and almost 8 months since I heard her voice. Every day is still a struggle. A struggle to not think about her. A struggle to not miss her. Every day I try to project to the rest of the world that everything is ok. That I am healing. that I am learning to accept her not being here. the fact is that every day I am trying not to show the world that a part of me is dying every day that I cant talk to her. That every day I am one trigger away from a break down. 

I talk to it mostly with the therapist now but the fact is I dont tell anyone else. While they say they understand, it is very difficult to be supportive while someone is needing that support most of the day. It is difficult to keep your own mental self safe when trying to help someone with their mental state that is very fragile. Drawback is that internally I struggle every day. i keep trying to find things to do to keep me occupied in other ways. Things that require just enugh thought that I cant concentrate on feelings. I went ahead with the craft room in our house because it was a large project to keep me busy. The painting and deciding on needs would keep me searching for the right items for hours. The actual painting kept me focuse don something else. That is almost done (have to save for the next big purchases). Then it was changing the locks in the house. Had to scrap that because what i want, I cant have and I am not keen on settling right now. I started a diamond art project because I knew it would take time. I started small because I was afraid that it would be something I would scrap day 2 but I completed it in 4 days. Now I need a bigger one to do.

Crocheting would be next but I find I think more when doing that if I dont have something interesting to watch while doing it. I have been watching tiktoks to pass the time. I watch it so much that now my phone has screen burn from it. Most days I am just looking for motivation to do something other than stay in the bed and sleep, cry or think about her. The therapist says that I should keep talking about her and keep doing these things to feel like I return to normal. What it really feels like is I am just avoiding my feelings or erasing her from my world. 

It doesnt feel like 7 months. It feels like 2 days most of the time. It still feels unreal. I  still think ot things I do during the day that I want to reach out and tell her about it. I want to send her a picture of the craft room. I want to show her our new fridge. I want to tell her I paid off my car and did it a few months early. I want to tell her so much because that is what I would normally do. The family trip to the cabins showed me how deep I am still in this grief. Over 100 family memebers and all I wanted was 1 person to be there. I just wanted her. I was disconnected from the rest of them.

I stopped taking the Sunday night car rides and visiting her every chance I could because I felt like it was making me worse than helping. I have my keepsake urn rings that I keep on a chain. I have broken the chain 2 times now. I hold the rings when I sleep because I think they comfort me. Not sure if they really do or not. The monthly annoversary of her passing is a struggle fo rme. I can sense the day coming just by the change in my mood each day. I dread it. I spend the day trying to not feel like the day has any meaning to me. I avoid all social media that day. I have been avoiding social media since March 15th. 

I miss her a lot. There is one important thing that I never got the chance to tell her. I will never get to tell her. I keep putting that thing out of my mind too. My sister is upset with me because I havent gotten her memorial poster framed yet. I dont even want it up let alone carry it in my car to take to the store and pick ut a frame for her. If I frame it she will want it put up and I cant handle that. I cant have a nearly 3ft picture of her up on a wall so i see it daily. I dont want to stare into the eyes that I will never see again with life and love. I dont want to stare into her smile that everyone loved. I got sick a month ago. Really our whole house. I wondered if it was COVID. I didnt want to be checked for COVID. If it was I was ok with not surviving it because it seemed fitting. I was ready to not fight the impending illness that would come with it. I was prepared to see her again. It wasnt COVID. I was last to get ill and none of the others had it. Just a nasty respiratory infection that affected each of us a bit differently. I am still trying to regain my voice after losing it for a day or 2. 

I am writing this because I havent written anything in weeks. It feels like a pity party that I am the only one who wants to attend. But after writing this I am going to try and go to sleep only to stay up and eventually cry myself to sleep for lack of anything else to do. Writing use to bring some comfort. It doesnt much any more. 

Time heals all wounds they say. It really doesnt. The wound never really heals. Every once in awhile you hit it on something and it hurts all over again. 

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