Disillusionment

I'm having a hard time right now. With more than just grief. But isn't it a bitch how other struggles can so easily amplify grief? Frustration with work, financial stress, sickness and tiredness cause me to implode and among the rubble he's screaming for me. My God, how I miss him. I haven't struggled with missing him in a long time. The chaos of the last few months has settled. Ryan's 2nd birthday, Brayden's first. Returning to work. Family things. I've one again carved out yet another "new normal" routine. And I was adjusting just fine. Until I wasn't anymore.

The routine. The normalcy. It jars me sometimes. How little my life has changed. I mean, my life has changed a lot. Yes. But now Ryan's two and we're starting this third year without him here, and my life looks so normal. So much like it did before he died. The part of my life that everyone sees. We walk around and live our lives looking like a normal family of three. Except we're not. How we look on the outside just does not match at all how I feel on the inside.

Especially when I'm struggling. 

It kills me when I'm having a hard time coping with the realities of life and everything looks so normal. Because it is this illusion of "normal" where my biggest fears start to happen. 

I'm overwhelmed lately with this feeling that people are forgetting. Maybe not forgetting, but certainly not engaging with his memory. On the 15th of October, we lit candles for Ryan and his friends. And I couldn't help but notice that on this third Wave of Light, there were no messages with burning candles pouring in from those who've celebrated in the past. And I'm always so grateful to see the various birthday celebrations (from around the world!) on September 7, but I also can't help but notice when (and by whom) he's not mentioned on that day.

Most painful for me, is that I didn't even make time to write him a note on October 7. The very first 7th of the month since he died that I didn't. It was Thanksgiving weekend and he was obviously on my mind. But with going back to work, and family things... I was busy. I was tired. And I was already pretty emotionally drained. I know I need to give myself a break. But when you're feeling like around you, everyone has "moved on from him" the last thing I need to feel is like I'm leaving him behind too.

Grief is lonely.

Even when you're lucky enough to be able to share it so openly. As I am. When it hurts, it hurts. And when you look around you, and see how smoothly the world keeps turning, you feel stuck on an island alone. 

I know time has passed. I know you've got to keep moving forward. And I have. I do. But some days the moving forward hurts. 

That's me this past week. 

So when I saw the 7th on my calendar today, I needed to stop. I needed to sit here. And I needed to write. Despite how tired I might be. Despite my frustrations and stresses. I needed to put it out there and maybe feel less like I'm being swallowed by the loneliness that is my grief.

Because really, I just miss my son.