The road I don’t want to follow…

Recently, during a conversation with my wife, I realized I am still knee deep in grief.  She looked at me and said “I had no idea you were still grieving” I was shocked at that statement, and even mad. I mean how could you think that? How could you think I had just forgotten her? I looked at her and said “how could I not be grieving? I lost the one person who loved me and understood me, she was my everything”. that sentence hit me like a ton of bricks. I realized in the mist of everything, I had put my grief on the backburner. Choosing to focus on work, my son, my wife, everything and anything else.

But it was still there, dwelling in the dark corners of my brain. The reason I was short tempered, irritable, exhausted and in general not a happy person. When Fallon died, I started grief counseling, I had no other choice. It was either fall into the abyss and let the sadness take me or fight. I remember one of the things my therapist said when I told her I wasn’t ready to move on from the anger, the guilt and the general feeling of how UNFUCKIN fair this was. She said, “stay there, stay in that space as long as you need, but remember you will have to come out of it one day” and my little Gemini brain took her completely literal. I stayed in that space, allowing myself to be a martyr. Knowing that if I felt guilty and sad that I was somehow honoring her.

Well in speaking with my NEW therapist, I’ve learned a few things, 1. While I don’t acknowledge it, grief is a driver in my life. 2. I have completely accepted that I am not allowed to be fully happy, and I will NOT be happy. 3. That if I don’t move out of this, I can never be the person I want to be.

Now how does one pick up a grieving process they started 4 years ago and decide to complete that process? Shit if I know. But I do know that I don’t like where I am.

During the time between her death and now, I have gotten engaged, had a baby, got married, sold our home, switched jobs, lost a dog and moved to another state. SO MUCH LIFE has happened and it truly feels unfair. So unfair that every joyous moment has been tainted with my sadness and guilt.  And you know what? That is truly unfortunate.

Unfortunate for my son who sees a smiling mommy, not knowing she is masking her true pain and fighting every day to keep her head above water. It’s unfortunate for my wife, who has watched me slowly pull away, anxiety ramping up and creating a wedge between us. But also, incredibly unfair to me. Someone who has had their prayers answered, has seen what the world has to offer and still, cannot find joy.

But mostly I am PISSED. I am pissed that next year I will be older than Fallon. That her life stopped and mine kept going, someone who in my mind was unworthy.  I am pissed that losing her meant I was thrust into adulthood. Having to make decisions and choices on my own without her guiding hand. Pushed from the nest and forced to fly before I was ready. I’m pissed that I must fight my brain to remember what her laugh sounded like. I pull memories to the front daily, just to reminisce on that laugh. Forever fearing that one day I will forget that sound and my heart cannot bear the thought. I’m pissed that this angel of a person, my confident, my leader, my best friend, is dead.  I am pissed that I begged God, on my knees, alone in my apartment to please not take her. I pleaded, promising to do better, be better, just please let me keep her, but he didn’t. He took her for himself, and I am supposed to what? Forgive? Be ok with this? HOW?

Growing up, I was often overlooked, forgotten or dismissed. But not by Fallon, she was the one who pulled me in for the group photos, invited me to every event, checked on me regularly and as I got older, we became joined at the hip. While others labeled me a black sheep, bad, a lost cause, Fallon embraced me.  She never made me feel bad about… well anything. If I made a poor decision she would say “well Hamma (Hammer was a nickname my aunt gave me because of my hard head) you can’t be doing that”. But she never, NEVER turned her back on me.  Never shamed me or made me feel less than. I was miraculous in her eyes and that confidence fueled me.

If you are lucky to have that kind of unwavering support, even if its just for a short amount of time, you know how truly blessed you are.

So now what? How am I supposed to believe in myself? How do I know if I am making the right decisions? Choices? How do I know if I am good enough?

Most days I feel like a shell, I smile, make people laugh, do my job, take care of my son and try not to fight with my wife. But inside, I am still deeply sad.

The day Fallon died, my heart shattered into 1,000 pieces. My son and my wife have put some of those pieces back, but there is still a massive hole. So big, I feel like I can hear the wind whistle inside my chest. There are days when I sink and there are days when I rise.

But the difference between today and 4 years ago is this, I want to be ok now. I want to move past the guilt and the shame I feel. I want to know what it feels like to be genuinely happy and smile like I meant it.

I don’t know how I will get there, but the desire is enough to get up and start moving.

Life isn’t fair (God I hate that phrase), people we love die and we must keep living.

I wish I had a plan, I wish there was a manual to navigating Grief, but there isn’t. The cold reality is that you either let it consume you, wither away into the black hole, or you figure it out and learn to live again. I chose the latter.