I survived the high holidays and am no better as a result. Tomorrow my littlest will turn 14, and I have no idea how that happened. I continue to plow through this year of firsts with a vengeance because I have no idea how else to continue on.
This week, at the recommendation of my neurologist, who is helping me treat my COVID Encephalopathy, I increased some of my meds which has made me feel more like a zombie than I prefer.
Don’t get me wrong, I can still cry at the drop of a hat or if I even briefly think about the fact that I can never again make a new memory with my son, but still feeling quite numb at the moment.
I’m learning so much about myself through this process, some good, some not so much. My typical self-proclaimed control freak nature has morphed over the past 15 weeks into one where I go days without opening my super obnoxious family google calendar. I have no concept of time or even days, and it bothers me none.
Most days I am uncomfortable in my own skin. Things I used to hold tightly to that allowed me to function I no longer care about or could be bothered with.
I’ve been told when you lose a child that you change forever. That is absolutely 100% true. I am never going to be the same as I was, and I am working towards being ok with that. A new concept for someone who traditionally thrived on consistency and routines.
Until nine years ago next month when I lost my dad I always loved this time of year, the fall, change of leaves, cooler temperatures and holidays. It brought me so much peace. Peace is now a foreign concept.
I am in my busiest season at work and have thrown myself into it, hoping for peace in this amazing project I am consumed with. Not so much.
Today I woke up, cried for an hour and a half before being capable of hauling my ass out of bed to start my day. I went to work, spent 12 hours giving it my all despite massive hurdles and unnecessarily hurtful drama, came home and parented my three beautiful girls and cannot wait to crawl into bed say the mourners Kaddish all to do it all again tomorrow, because I have to keep moving. I don’t have a choice.