Four months today. It has been four months since I last got to touch my son. Four months and one day since I last got to see his smile, hear his voice and hear him say I love you. It doesn’t seem like four months. I guess it is because everyday I wake up thinking I was just dreaming and then get slapped with reality.
There is no way to really explain how I feel other than lost. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be. I don’t know how to be me. Everyone says, “Oh you are so strong” or “You are holding up so well”. What they do not realize is I have become an expert at faking it. I have learned how to put on a smile and laugh with the rest of them when I really don’t want to be near people. I have learned how to sneak off to the bathroom and have a mini 2 minute breakdown and come back out like nothing is wrong. I have learned how to cry on schedule. Hemorrhoid cream has become my best friend to get rid of puffy eyes. I can have gut wrenching sobbing fits all day long and be happy and cheerful in time to get Krista from school. What is really humorous is when someone texts me asking how my day is going and I tell them great all while crying so hard I can hardly see to text back. Love blaming spell check on that. Thank goodness it is allergy season because I can blame red eyes on the pollen. See, an expert and the biggest faker ever.
What really upsets me 90% of the time is when people say I need to be grateful for waking up another day. I have choice words for those people. Waking up to another day means I get to spend the day mixed with emotions of sorrow, happiness and guilt. Sorrow for my lost son. Happiness for the children still here with me. Guilt because I hate the dawn of each new day without Richie and think that I am being unfair to the others. So, I wake up to each day with what seems like a million different feelings in the first ten minutes. Sometimes, I think my brain and heart are going to explode from being overworked.
Four months. If people only knew that for me it gets worse with each passing day. That so many aspects of my life are spiraling out of control. If they only knew that all the glue, tape and fake smiles are starting to not work anymore. The cracks in my foundation are turning into huge gaping gaps and I really want to wave the white flag and give in. I want to crawl in the bed and put the covers over my head and not come out.