I hate looking back but I am fearful of looking forward. So where does that leave me if I’m stuck in the middle? I look back at the 2 years of where I was in my life and I would call it a miracle. A miracle I survived the pain and heartache. There is nothing that can describe in words how broken life feels from the loss of a child. I’m almost fearful of the dark moments that almost took my life, took my marriage, and took my mind with it.
We went to Disneyland on what would have been his 2nd birthday but it was just weird- we never knew if we should call it a celebration and there’s the struggle of feeling guilty for having a good time. I’m okay not suffering, and living a happy life in his name but I’m also okay having a good cry now and then.
Two years have passed and I don’t recognize myself when I read past posts about Max. I’m still confused and heartbroken but the degree isn’t so extreme. I also look back at these and feel grateful for the emotional freedom I feel. I remember I used to hold friends and family responsible for not taking care of my emotional needs. It was crazy, but so was I. A friend recently told me how she felt when she found out about Max. For the first time in two years, I let go of my emotions, and understood for a few seconds what other people felt. It was devastating all over again, but a feeling so helpless when you watch your friends suffer. I’ve let go of those expectations and fear, and if it’s a moment that triggers emotions, I let it happen, but I don’t let it ruin me like it used to. I’ve gone to thousands of hours of therapy, connected with new friends that I discovered after the loss, and built stronger ones. Life has sad moments but overall it’s good, it’s calm, it’s fun, and it’s stable. It may be boring to some, but considering the waves of disaster I felt, it really couldn’t be better. Thank you for all the support these past two years.