Numb
"How are you doing?"
That's the first question out of anyone's mouth. Not just in situations like this, but anytime two individuals see one another. The interesting thing is that the majority of the time, we're not being genuine when you ask that question. Think of how many times a day you get asked how you're doing. By the grocery store clerk, the teller at the bank, the receptionist at the doctor's office when you call to make an appointment. It would be interesting to see what would happen if everyone started being honest when asked that question.
It's not that I get mad or upset when someone asks me how I am. It's just that I don't even know how to respond anymore. I'm lying if I say I'm good. I'm lying if I say I'm doing ok. But I can't even begin to explain how I am doing.
It's hard to explain, but I feel as though I'm falling down the rabbit's hole in Alice in Wonderland. Or like I'm on auto pilot the way Adam Sandler was in the movie Click. Everything is a blur, and there's many days when I question how I even got here. Not philosophically, but more like how did I get to work. I don't even remember the drive in.
I'm told that all these feelings are absolutely normal. That my husband and I are doing the best that we can possibly do. The days where we go from laughing, to crying, to mad for no reason are all typical things people do.
Grief should be a well versed process for me I would think. Between losing my father, stepdad, and sister, plus having my bachelor's in Psychology, I would have thought I'd have this down pat. There's something so different though. A tiny human, who had lived inside me for as long as she did in the real world, is no longer here. A little girl who my husband and I love more than life itself. The little girl I would come home and cuddle with. The one who was my alarm clock every morning. The one who knew just what funny face to make to remind me that everything was going to be ok. She's not here.
I will never ever see her in this life again.
I'm afraid I'll forget the way it felt when she rested her head on my shoulder. Or the feel of apples all over my face because she thought it was hilarious to blow bubbles with every bite. Or the smile on Gonz's face when he'd come home from a long shift just in time to put her in bed. That was their thing. Bedtime. Almost every night he was the one to put her to bed. Even when she was on hospice. I wasn't allowed to carry her to the room. It was adorable because every single night he would stop and look at the two of them in the mirror together and make a comment on how fast she's growing.
I remember she fell asleep in my arms one day (it wasn't too common) and I looked at her and thought can she just stay this small forever?
They say be careful what you wish for.
So when people ask me how I'm doing and all of these thoughts run through my head and my mind can't make up its mind on if I should cry, smile, laugh, or punch something. So if you ask me how I am, and I get a blank look on my face. I'm not trying to be rude or dramatic. I don't think the human body can handle this many feelings at once so it goes numb.
That's the first question out of anyone's mouth. Not just in situations like this, but anytime two individuals see one another. The interesting thing is that the majority of the time, we're not being genuine when you ask that question. Think of how many times a day you get asked how you're doing. By the grocery store clerk, the teller at the bank, the receptionist at the doctor's office when you call to make an appointment. It would be interesting to see what would happen if everyone started being honest when asked that question.
It's not that I get mad or upset when someone asks me how I am. It's just that I don't even know how to respond anymore. I'm lying if I say I'm good. I'm lying if I say I'm doing ok. But I can't even begin to explain how I am doing.
It's hard to explain, but I feel as though I'm falling down the rabbit's hole in Alice in Wonderland. Or like I'm on auto pilot the way Adam Sandler was in the movie Click. Everything is a blur, and there's many days when I question how I even got here. Not philosophically, but more like how did I get to work. I don't even remember the drive in.
I'm told that all these feelings are absolutely normal. That my husband and I are doing the best that we can possibly do. The days where we go from laughing, to crying, to mad for no reason are all typical things people do.
Grief should be a well versed process for me I would think. Between losing my father, stepdad, and sister, plus having my bachelor's in Psychology, I would have thought I'd have this down pat. There's something so different though. A tiny human, who had lived inside me for as long as she did in the real world, is no longer here. A little girl who my husband and I love more than life itself. The little girl I would come home and cuddle with. The one who was my alarm clock every morning. The one who knew just what funny face to make to remind me that everything was going to be ok. She's not here.
I will never ever see her in this life again.
I'm afraid I'll forget the way it felt when she rested her head on my shoulder. Or the feel of apples all over my face because she thought it was hilarious to blow bubbles with every bite. Or the smile on Gonz's face when he'd come home from a long shift just in time to put her in bed. That was their thing. Bedtime. Almost every night he was the one to put her to bed. Even when she was on hospice. I wasn't allowed to carry her to the room. It was adorable because every single night he would stop and look at the two of them in the mirror together and make a comment on how fast she's growing.
I remember she fell asleep in my arms one day (it wasn't too common) and I looked at her and thought can she just stay this small forever?
They say be careful what you wish for.
So when people ask me how I'm doing and all of these thoughts run through my head and my mind can't make up its mind on if I should cry, smile, laugh, or punch something. So if you ask me how I am, and I get a blank look on my face. I'm not trying to be rude or dramatic. I don't think the human body can handle this many feelings at once so it goes numb.
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