Life is for the Living

"I'm fine! 

I can jog all the way to Texas and back, but my daughter can't! She never could! 

Oh God! I am so mad I don't know what to do! I wanna know why! 

I wanna know *why* Shelby's life is over! 

I wanna know how that baby will *ever* know how wonderful his mother was! 

Will he *ever* know what she went through for him! 

Oh *God* I wanna know *why*? *Why*? 

Lord, I wish I could understand!"   ~ M'Lynn ("Steel Magnolias")

Before I lost such a big part of my life and my heart, I really had no understanding of grief and mourning. As a human being, I have empathy of course. So I felt such sadness for people who lost loved ones. But I didn't really "get it". You really can't unless you've been through it yourself. I would be with people who have experienced loss and they'd appear happy, they'd be laughing. And I would think, "Oh, good. They must be healing." Or I would see their posts on social media of them on vacation. Pictures of smiling faces and fancy drinks. And I would think, "Oh, good. They've healed!" 

Or worse...I would think, "How can they be happy? How can they be laughing?! How can they be over their loss already? Don't they miss their loved one?" Almost...judging. Because I would always think to myself, "If I lost Courtney, there is no way I could ever be happy again. I'd be completely broken." Turns out though that you can laugh again but that has absolutely nothing to do with the depth or breadth of your pain. 

So now I worry. I worry that all my social media jokes will make people think I'm fine. That I'm doing okay. Or that if I'm being my typical outgoing self, people assume I'm through the worst of the pain. Or that because I had to hear, see and do some really tough things with Courtney, including deciding when it was time to let her go, that I am made of steel.  Impervious to having total mental breakdowns. Impervious to yelling, screaming, crying, sobbing. Impervious to absolutely losing it, out of the blue, over the wisp of a memory. Ps. I do all of the above...daily. Because I am not fine and I will probably never be "fine" again. But, as my mom has always said, "Life is for the living" and so I move forward and try to live.  

But, what I can't do, what I won't do, is act like I'm fine to make people feel comfortable or to not make things "awkward". I know people absorb my pain simply by knowing me or being with me or reading my posts on social media. And I'm sure it can be an absolute "downer" or a mood changer. But I'm an emotional person. And I will always be my authentic and genuine self. So, if I'm happy, you'll know it. If I'm angry, you'll know it. And if I am absolutely suffering with the weight of my grief, you will know that, too. It's what you signed up for if you're in my life. Sorry. 

Admittedly, I am doing better than I thought I would after losing Courtney. But it's taken a lot of work on my part. I can't give in to the pain, anger, depression, sadness, anxiety, trauma and emptiness I feel at times. Life is for the living. But, it does overtake me at times because I am, in fact, not made of steel. So I don't want people to draw conclusions that because I am joking, or laughing or smiling in pictures, that I'm fine. Because then I'll have to worry that you may be offended if I don't text you back. If I don't email you back. If I don't comment on your posts. If I don't accept your invitations to social events. If I cancel plans at the last minute. If I make promises I can't keep. If I snap at you unexpectedly. If I withdraw.

I have enough emotions on my plate to sort through right now. So if I can eliminate the emotion of worry - worry that I am letting people down - it'll be one less thing that I have to try to manage.

"It's not time to worry yet." ~ Harper Lee, "To Kill a Mockingbird"