I miss you so very much. There is a big hole in my heart, in my life. Nothing fills it, no amount of sunshine or rain, no light takes away the darkness. It just remains a hole. But I’m finding a way to rub along with it.
I am trying hard to look forwards. I ask myself, what do you want from life because you can have it, you just have to want it. And I do want it, I just fear I won’t be able to handle it. And that makes me sad. What if I can’t handle happiness? What if I make a mess of it?
Recovery is hard. It’s this word that encapsulates so much, carries so much meaning and yet is so hard. I wonder sometimes if recovery is as meaningful as it portrays.
I know recovery isn’t crossing a finish line and being handed a shiney medal. I know recovery isn’t time limited. I also know recovery is ongoing, it spans further than the number I can count on my hands. I know it’s about being patient and not running before you can walk.
I know it’s about being kind to myself and going with the flow of the day. I know that recovery involves tears and sadness, anger and frustration. I know recovery is either done or is not done. I don’t know if anyone is reading this, if you are reading it, or if my words are as lonely as I am in all of this. I keep putting one foot in front of the other and hoping that is enough.
The only thing I do know, is that I am looking forward to today, to your brother waking up, to getting all the toys out. I wanted to take him to the park to go on the swings for the first time but the weather forecast is for heavy rain. So instead we are going to plant some flowers, I thought it would be poignant to watch them grow as recovery evolves.
Maybe you will blossom with the flowers.
Lots of love,
P.S, your brother is 9 months old today and has started crawling! We now need many baby gates.