Nonsensical Time

The days blend
One into another.
Then
        Now
                When?
Distinction lost
Within the grief.
The past is the present.
The future never to come.
Locked, stuck in today.
Today that is
Today that was
But what is today?
What was yesterday?
When is not
What was when
When your heart is dark
When grief swallows light.
When what was is not
When who was is no more
When 12 days will be all there ever was
And grief swallows time
Spits it out crumbled and incomprehensible
When I blink time flashes
Then I blink again and time feels like sludge
With no in between
Only nonsensical time.

Should it still be this hard?

You think 11 years in and I'd be used to this feeling. This dread and ache that October brings. Eleven years of doing this and it still gets me every time. Every time the air cools and the leaves start to change. Every time the pumpkin spice is rolled out and Halloween decor put up. Every single fucking year, it all just crashes around me. So here I am, my eleventh October without him, trying to figure out how to make it through the month. Not only the month of October, but then past the anniversary of his death. Trying to stay afloat with all the obligations that life brings, that his living siblings bring, all with my heart in the depths of grief. 

And I'm feeling that grief so intensely right now. Sometimes I question myself, should it still be this hard?, should it still hurt this much? I don't know if it should, but it is this hard and it does hurt this much. Right now at least. Maybe not as constantly as it once did. It comes in waves. One of those waves is hitting now. Knocking me down. Down hard enough it feels like I can't get up. But logically I know I will. I know I'll likely wake up tomorrow not feeling so intensely. But I also know that another wave can come by at any time and do it again. 

I think I've been putting too much energy into fighting it. Fighting against the grief, fighting against the feeling of being knocked down. There are times I really just need to lean into it. To let the wave take me. Because no matter how much time has passed, it will always just really fucking suck that he died. So tonight after the kids went to bed I intentionally got out my journal and just let the feelings come. Just let the tears come and come and come. Instead of attempting to hold the grief close to my heart, I let it move. I let it wash over me. 

So for the next month I need to remember to have grace and patience with myself. I need to remember that it's okay for me to feel up and down with big emotions that take over. That it's okay to have happy, calm, peaceful days. And it's okay to have hard, grief-filled, difficult days. Or to have both scenarios in the same day. Yes, it's been 11 years. But the grief of losing a baby is honestly beyond comprehension. There's no timeline. There's just continuing to move forward. But that doesn't mean I won't get knocked on my ass here and there, especially during the month of October and the beginning of November. Yeah, I'm putting these words in my blog to send out into the internet for other people to read...but they're really for me. They're really some important reminders for myself. I'm doing the best I can during a difficult time. And I will get through it and the next time it happens I'll still be doing the best I can. It's all any of us can do. So, as I often tell my kids, we just gotta keep on keeping on. 

Additional note: I went back and read this post I wrote in Oct 2017. It's all still accurate.