Looking In. 

Sometimes it feels like my life isn’t really mine. 

When I look back at what has happened. Losing Graeme. Raising Kurt. I think to myself how did I survive this? How am I still standing?

Sometimes in grief you shut down or you shut it out. It’s like you close the screen door. You can still see it and smell it. You can still feel the cold chill of the pain but you’re not really there. 

To be honest with you and myself mostly. The last time I really let myself feel the grief of losing Graeme was his birthday last year. I feel like a horrible mother to him saying that. But emotionally I was drained. Kurt came and it became easy to distract myself with his precious perfect little self. Graeme was obviously always still on my brain. Still right beside me, watching over us. 

But for a while. I put my grief in a box. Occasionally opening it a little. Letting the pain out. Honestly I’ve kept that box closed for so long now that it’s overflowing. The grief is bursting out and I’m finally comfortable letting it.

I was scared of that grief. 

Scared of what letting go and feeling that pain again might mean. 

 But it feels better getting it out. Not living in fear of my grief. 

Holding things in becomes toxic. 

Not speaking your truth, poisons your soul. 

I feel like I was doing myself and my sons a disservice by pretending to be okay. 
Because let’s face it I’m not okay and I don’t have to be. 

I’m living a life no mother should ever have to live. 

Yes I am better. 

Yes I am happy. 

Yes I am still broken. 

I think this may all just be part of this life. Part of learning to live again. 

So I say this to anyone who’s just okay. 

You don’t have to be. 

You can be sad. 

You can be broken. 

Because being okay isn’t always okay. 

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