Sigh

It's always the little things, isn't it??? It's the little things that bring back all the misery you thought you had let go of. During my time at home, when I was "cocooning" I thought I had taken every possible stone, the stones of grief making my heart so heavy, and examined them completely. Over and over again, in minute detail, cried rivers of tears and thought once I had given each one it's time and it's pain, I could let it go. Always naive...always...
It is still hard, not just hard, seemingly impossible pain to bear. So, I thought I had it all figured out...I knew I would never be "over" it, I guess I just thought that eventually I would reach a point where I might want to live again, or at least be neutral about it. I thought my husband and I had made it through this stronger than ever...yet we are now fighting, and I am becoming resentful. He says he suffers too...that he just doesn't "carry on" like I do...as if there is anything wrong or unnatural about a grieving mother crying from the soul almost daily over the loss of her child. We bought the new house, I found the great job...a job I love when I have never had a job I even liked. I have reached some goals that I thought would make me happy, or at least not so unhappy. These things do help for a short period of time. I get caught up in the newness, the excitement yet invariably after some time passes the f***ing reality monster who I imagine looks like the grim reaper, taps me on the shoulder. Who do I think I am??? Going on with my life??? What kind of mother am I??? I still wish I could wear a burka, or at least a black veil.
Everywhere I look I see her, memories of her. I might not break down as I once did, but it makes me sad...not just sad that she is gone, but sad that her life had so much suffering. So today I read a blog by a dear friend, a sister mom...she is newer into this journey and wants the clothes her daughter last wore and the state she lives in has laws that required a legal judgement to obtain them. It made me think...I never even thought of that. I wonder what happened to Cassi's clothes...I don't even know what she was wearing that day...how is it I never thought of this??? I have a small bag of the jewelry she was wearing and often wear one of her rings. I can't decide though...is it a precious keepsake or a grim reminder?...it was on her finger in her last moments of despair, when she did the unthinkable.
In my worst moments, in pain, the unthinkable not only becomes rational it becomes completely sensible and I wonder how much longer I will be here. These thoughts run through my head...Is it inevitable and only a matter of time??? That's what Cassi believed and it became a self-fulfilling prophecy. I don't want to hurt my mother, she might not survive. I don't want to hurt my sister...she would survive because she has to, she has a small son to raise...but it would mess her up, mess her up even worse than she is now. Those thoughts keep me going, even if I am crying, sobbing, doubled over in emotional and even physical pain...yet my life feels fraudulent. I feel like 22 1/2 years disappeared...I am a childless mother. Sometimes I have this irrational thought...Did I imagine it all??? DID I have an amazing child that I thought the sun rose and set with??? Horrible, crazy thoughts...my life has become a quiet misery with moments of happiness before I check myself and realize I have no reason or right to be happy and am overcome with guilt.
Quiet desperation...fake happiness that makes me sick at my stomach, makes me hate myself...that I would abandon my true feelings to make other people comfortable...Cassi deserves better than that.