I’m not strong. I need to wake up. I should stop grieving. I have to realize I’m not the only one suffering the loss of a child. I must move on.
Here’s a taste of what us cancer families get from followers every damn day. This person was just bold enough to put it in a public post and didn’t hide behind a FB message and then quickly lock their FB. page down, or pretend it came from some sort of religious belief, or even use an experience to make it sound plausible. Sad… It’s sad for all of us.
Hey people, I post to get my frustrations out, and to help other families feel as if they are not alone. To spread awareness for my daughters rare cancer and help with all of the above. Sometimes these crappy comments are easy to ignore because the post wasn’t emotional for me specifically. Not this time… If this keeps up, as it has been more frequent the further from her death we get, then I’m out.
I wonder if she just wanted to swim away and forget it all? I know I did. And do…
I had a rough night(day/month/year/life…) last night. Nightmares. Night terrors. I feel things that aren’t real. Physically, visually, and emotionally ina blur. And they scare me… Nothing feels good about it. 2.5 years of this. Nothing positive or happy in my dreams.
I had a sudden realization today. Like every day. She’s gone. Forever. I stopped and gasped. I almost grabbed a wall. I will know nothing more of her than what I know now. I will learn nothing more of her than I have already learned.
She’s gone. Just gone and for nothing. The trauma is unforgivable and tragic. And there always… Hiding. Waiting to escape at every turn of the page or change in the wind.
Every day, a reminder of my loss and hers.
Someone told me long ago, there’s a calm before the storm.
I know, it’s been coming for some time…
I carried her in my belly, then in my arms, then hardly at all. Within 12 months I was carrying her in my arms again, to her last breath. I now carry her on my neck… I miss you Katie Baby. I wish I could have fixed this.