The longest day.

Today was the first day that I would attempt to go back to work. I couldn't sleep last night. I tossed and turned thinking about how I am supposed to just go back to what people call "Normal" What if I cant make it? What if I lose it at work? What if someone asks me about her? What if they use her name? What if they don't ask? What if they don't care? What if no one notices that I am even there? What is none of this matters anymore? I spent the night thinking about the "what if's" as if those "what ifs" are any easier than the "what if's" I have about the day you left. What if I came home earlier? What if I called you instead? What if's were attacking my mind and then the alarm went off. 

My feet hit the floor and felt like concrete was holding them in place. I took one step at a time. I didn't want to go but I knew that we needed for me to go back to work. We are a two income family, one income doesn't work but I didn't have the strength. I couldn't do it and yet I kept moving. Who cares if bills get paid, who cares about anything...Thinking of you the whole time. Your story matters! You mattered! I would just share with one person-save one person from this hell. I got ready for work but today was different when I looked in the mirror. I was different. Things were different. Life was no longer the same. Who cared what I looked like...who cared what I wore? What does a grieving mother look like? She is a shell of something that is slowing disappearing but I kept moving. 

I made it to work. As I sat there I found myself thinking about Sara wanting to talk to her, wanting to talk about her...finally someone asked me a question. I word vomited about Sara. It felt great to talk about her but in the same sentence my heart broke. For moment, I was just a bragging mom about how amazing my daughter is and with a swift punch in the heart I am reminded that my world has indeed stopped. I held it together. I was used this as a time to talk about talking to your children and encouraging them to SPEAK up. I wanted everyone to know about your silence. I poured myself into trying to figure out my passwords locking myself out of almost everything that I have access to at work. I couldn't remember anything. I found myself taking each moment by moment. Some moments were ok and some were manageable.  Everyone at work was amazing. I mean it. Very supportive, very encouraging, when I needed to talk, they let me talk. If I needed to walk, they let me walk. They all worked on trying to help keep me busy as if locking myself out of everything wasn't already keeping me busy all in its self. I made it to 3 and I didn't lose it. I even ate lunch without losing it. 

I had to leave early for therapy session. Therapy sessions make me on high alert as I know that I have to talk openly about the demons that haunt my nights. I have to share the inner most devil that is attacking my soul. This was a "new normal" and it was shit. I found myself driving home screaming at the radio. "Fight Song" thinking about you. Thinking about why you left me. I could lose it now. I could have a melt down while no one was watching and that is what I did. I screamed and yelled all the way home. I cried out your name. I wanted you to be sitting next to me making whale noises again. I needed you to be home when I got there and yet you never will be again. 

After therapy, I didn't want to go home. I couldn't face the last place I saw your face. We tried to get out and act normal. All I could think of was your face. Looking at the faces around me, wondering how they were just going on living while our world stopped. As a mother, your children are your legacy. My legacy decided to leave a hole in my world. What legacy would we have now? What future would I have now and how could all these people around me just keep on like nothing is wrong? Why because they didn't lose the most amazing thing they have ever created but I did. The wound in my heart pained. Sometimes your own mind can be worse than your reality. I imagined what your mind felt like the day you took your life. Things you tell yourself. My inner most demons taking every advantage of me.  

We came home and the fire in my veins made it too painful. I found myself inside a whirl wind of emotions trying to find the words. Trying to understand why. I made it through my first day at work but it took everything I had left to make it. Then repeat daily. That is my "new normal" Grief which should be a much larger letter word that 5 letters cuz it puts a simple word with something that can not be explained that simple...grief is having nothing else to give and someone asking you for something that you cant give or don't have. Yet feeling the expectations to do or act. 

I can't give you what you want to hear. I can't tell you that I will be ok. I can't tell you that I will make it through this. I can't tell you that I will smile. I can't tell you that things are normal. I can't tell you that I am fine. I can't tell you that my heart doesn't burn all the time. I can't tell you that I am a fighter. I can't tell you what my name is most days. I can't tell you that I am strong. I can't tell you what I want to eat. I can't tell you what I need. I can't tell you why my daughter took her own life. I can't tell you how to cope. I just can't....

What I can tell you is that each moment is different for me. Each one weighs different on my soul. Each moment I make it to the next one is me giving all the fight I have to make it. So when you ask me how I am doing? Do not be discouraged if the answer isn't a good one. Take that moment to see if just maybe you could hold in your pain while you carry mine for just a minute. 

For me talking about Sara even if there are tears makes me feel better lately. That doesn't mean don't cry with me. That means that its ok to talk about her. Its my favorite thing to do. What hurts the most is when someone asks me how we are doing out of obligation but doesn't stick around to see what the answer was. While this is my hell and I am not asking you to carry it for me, just maybe if they could help with listening to my thoughts or sharing a favorite memory. 

Sometimes just being there is enough to help someone get to the next moment. It's all about the moments...one moment to the next one.