Anger
Well. It has finally hit me. The anger. Not just any anger, no, this is big anger. Resentful, jealous, steam bellowing out from my ears, anger.
I have reached the point where I am no longer weeping on my pillow sorrowfully asking for a reason. I am now standing erect, screaming for a redo.
Let me start over, this can't be my ending. This can't be our story.
I am pissed! My body quivers and shakes at the thought that this is my actual life! I have to keep living this! My reality is that my son is dead and there is nothing that can be done to undo this pain. No therapy or prayer will alleviate this anguish. This is my life now. Pain and torment every single day.
Just paint on a smile, Michelle, you can't leave the house that way.
Cliches and niceties thrown flippantly in my face, as if they will do anything to bring peace to my heart! My soul is shattered and crushed beyond repair. Broken glass all over my body, each movement cuts me deeper. I have terminal heartbreak, there is no cure.
I feel targeted. A bulls-eye painted on my back. Pain zeroed in on my heart and nailed it. A direct hit. It chases me around and around, unrelenting, never wavering. Over and over I get pelted with its searing darts.
I spend my days clawing out of this pit of hopelessness, just reaching the top, only to find myself waking in the same pit over and over, until…
When can I breath? Please, God, let me breath!
Put the oxygen mask on yourself first.... but where is my oxygen mask, where is my life support. How can I save myself when there is no oxygen mask. There was no "pre-death" announcement explaining where the exits are or how to survive the sudden impact of trauma of the worst kind.
Let me off! I don't Like this ride! I didn't sign up for this, I didn't choose this life!
This is what the world's been waiting for. The crumble, the break. She can't be this strong. She's told us all along. She's falling down. This all make sense now. That supernatural peace is gone. She held on far too long.
The break is justifiable. Just submit to the pain. Let the wave take you down, just disintegrate. It makes sense, no one would blame you. No one can handle this burden.
God, I know you chose me for this exact life, but I don't want it! Pick someone else! Take this pain from me Lord, I can't take it, I'm so overwhelmed.
No!!!
Just breath, in and out. Take a breath in and let it out.
This is what grief looks like. This is the game it plays. It's not suppose to be way. This entire world is not supposed to be this way.
Step into the shower, clean my wounds, get ready for the day. I refuse to crumble. I will not break. I am stronger than the pain. I feel the anger subside, I can feel Jesus beside me, His anger at death makes my body shake. I feel Him pull the darts of grief from my back and soothes the wounds with his grace. I can almost see His arms under mine holding me in place. My God will not let me fall, he wont let me crumble. He breaths for me. He sustains my life.
** Disclaimer**
I know my people who love me dearly will be reading this post. These are my feeling while in my deepest pit of grief induced depression. I have not ever truly wanted to hurt myself.
With that said, If you have feelings to harm yourself please reach out, either here or somewhere, anywhere. You are worthy of true joy, even in the darkest, deepest pit of hopelessness. You are loved and although sometimes we feel trapped in a life we didn’t choose, you are here on purpose. You matter and your heartache matters. You are so very loved and important.
National Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255