Inadequate

For the last couple of weeks I have felt really awkward and inadequate about this blog, and have even tossed around the idea of abandoning it. Why? Simple. How can I possible write about getting fit and in shape when I struggle each and every day with it? When I have days where I plain don't care? When I feel like I am on a slippery slope that's tilted backwards and I can't stop myself from sliding down?

The last two weeks have been tough. Tougher than the other 45 weeks since Joana's death. Is it because the anniversaries are coming up? Is it because reality is setting in that she will never come back? Is it because the fear that something will happen to my other kids is too overwhelming? Or is it simply because a person can only take so much longing for someone before they start to feel physically sick from the big void they carry around?

I started this blog with the intention of concentrating on getting fit and well. But right now I am unable to focus on that....at least the physical aspect of getting well. I feel like I need to get in a better spot mentally before I can focus on the rest again.

And that's where I am stuck. How do I get to that place? I realize that grief is very lonely. No one misses Joana the same way I do, because no one else was her mom. Others can't possibly understand how I feel (unless they have lost a child themselves), so I don't talk about it. They can't understand why I feel guilty and blame myself for a lot of the things that happened. So I don't bring it up any more. They can't imagine what it feels like to hold your child when she takes her last breath and there is absolutely nothing you can do to save her. The desperation you feel is something I will never be able to put into words.

On the outside I appear to be doing very well, but it's exhausting to keep up that façade.

And I wonder...if Joana can see what is going on down here on earth, does she see it with "human" eyes? Does she only see that her mom goes to work every day, takes care of the rest of the family, laughs and makes jokes, and looks to be doing just fine? Or does she see so much deeper and knows how much I hurt? How much of an effort it is to carry on with mundane, everyday tasks? How tiring it is to function and pretend to be okay? If that is the case, she would be very disappointed in me.

I have read many Facebook posts by grieving mothers, and it is very discouraging to read, "it never gets easier, it will just be different." Will it really never get easier? Will I really never feel truly happy again?

I bought a couple of books that were written by mothers who have lost their children, and I truly hope that these books will give me some hope that yes, there will be a day when I will feel happy again, without pretending. I know I can survive this (because what choice do I have, right?), but I don't want to live for the rest of my live just surviving.

So if you see me - or any grieving person for that matter - please try to understand that you are just looking at a shell, that there is so much more to us than our hollow smile. A big part of us was taken, and we have to learn to live with a huge hole in our hearts.