grief
Losing a family member is one of the most traumatic life events; Families must support one another to endure the five stages of grief and get through it together.
A Storm is brewing
I've found myself in states of deep sadness, then, in a moment anger rears it's head and I'm consumed with rage....who am I angry at? My son? Sometimes; myself? absolutely! However, a bulk of my rage is centered on every single person who is able to live their life without this pain and loss; those who laugh and smile, those who have no idea how painful and debilitating my life has become - I'm angry that they don't see! That "important" to them is their job, their money, what they will do for fun next weekend.... Does that make me a terrible person? Maybe I am, maybe my rage and depression do make me a terrible person....I'm certainly not the person I was; my blinders have been ripped off, and I see this world as it truly is - a depressing place filled with hate and sadness. Do I add to it by these feelings of rage and darkness? That, makes me even sadder and angrier if I do.... I have become a wheel that continues to spin and never goes anywhere. I have allowed the depression to place thoughts in my head that I would never voice...to voice them would alert those around me to lock me up and throw away the key. I write, it helps - it may be nonsensical and misunderstood, but it's mine, and it helps me purge the darkness for a little while. Tears are not cleansing, they are the byproduct of the deep wounds in my heart and soul; the bleeding of my wounds... I have become jaded and mean... not overtly, no, I hide my cynicism and nasty thoughts from others, but the real me, the new me, the broken me is not kind, is not happy for others, is not helpful....this me, has become a monster - an angry, cynical, sad monster. I don't care if someone dislikes me, I don't care if someone thinks I'm full of sh*t....I don't care about anyone or what they might think! No one knows me anymore....not the real me, not the person who at any given moment could slide into the abyss of depression and do what I've always considered to be the unthinkable.... it's no longer unthinkable, it's just there...it is a thought. I stuff that thought down, and refuse to take action, not because I'm noble or strong or any of the other things people have said to me - No, it's because I'm weak. I'm fragile and weak. I don't WANT to be this way, but once the blinders come off, you can't put them back on! There is a storm brewing in me, and when it unleashes, when I am unable to continue shoving it down, further and further; when it rises to the surface, I am afraid of what that storm will do. Will it provide me the strength to leave this sh*t hole of a world on my terms, or will it push me further into the darkness blocking all light from me? Is healing from a loss like this even possible???? I have become so good at making people believe I'm "doing better" .... what a joke! If they could see inside my mind they would cringe in fear and pain....it doesn't "get better," I've just learned how to become the robot that I am called to be. I love my children - both living and dead and living while one of my children isn't is like a puzzle that is missing a piece that brings the whole puzzle together.....I will never be whole again....never.
Kathleen Elizabeth Comfort-SteinbaecherPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesChrissy Teigen, John Legend Lose Son Jack
#ChrissyTeigen's latest tweet broke my heart. Here is a woman who has openly expressed her challenges in conceiving a child, who has spoken from the heart about IVF treatments while conceiving daughter Luna and son Miles, and who was both surprised and seemingly elated - I could only assume so, at any rate, given I do not know her or her husband - at the news that she'd conceived her third child naturally.
Christina St-JeanPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesBeautiful Family
I woke up to the familiar voice of my dad, I quickly grabbed my phone to check the time. It was currently two in the morning, I blinked away the lingering sleep left in my eyes, threw the covers off and began walking down the stairs. As I neared the bottom step I overheard my father speaking with my Aunt.
Jaeger BoiPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesIn my own skin.
Out of the many tattoos I have imprinted on my skin, the ones linked to my parents seem to catch the most attention. The curiosity they spark always makes me laugh a little since my parents, like most, were the only ones against me getting tattoos in the first place. To be honest, I actually would have never placed myself as someone to get tattoos dedicated to their parents, but as my fathers health declined in 2007, a need for closeness within my family unit was sparked in me.
Kendal ThompsonPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesYour Identity Redefined Through Death
When you have all your relatives, parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles alive and well, your identity remains fixed, whether you are aware of this fact or not. The idea of a shifting identity first occurred to me the day my little brother died. I remember a very dramatic statement made in a “The Faults in Our stars” where a mother was watching her child die and proclaimed “I’m not going to be a mom anymore” or something to that effect. I thought it was heartbreaking but ultimately unrealistic. Then I realized something. We as a society tend to talk about the deceased in terms of the past tense. “He was a wonderful person,” “She had such a wonderful spirit,” “No one knew passion like Elliott did.” So in reality what we are essentially saying is that the person no longer exists.
Emily SchayePublished 4 years ago in FamiliesWhen there are no words
Just looking around at this crazy world we’re living in, it can get mighty overwhelming sometimes.... I mean everywhere you look anymore there’s something making no sense. I swear.
Rachel is on a cloud
Rachel’s little, limp and precious body lay on the floor. Did she shoot the gun so hard she fell down, she wonders? Did she really just shoot her daddy? Rachel’s body feels weird, like when she is in the swimming pool and feels like she doesn’t weigh anything. She goes to scratch her back and feels something like a bug or a bird or something. Its wings! She has fairy wings! But wait, she looks down and sees herself lying on the floor. Are those angel wings? Did she fall asleep and is having a dream? As she looks down again she sees her daddy picking her up from the hardwood floor. She sees her body and the reddest blood on the floor. She sees her daddy’s shirt with red blood, her blood, as his tears splatter onto the blood turning it a pinkish color. But, but, but this isn’t what she meant or planned! She was going to shoot her daddy because he had been bad. What happened to what she planned? Daddy, or John is what everyone calls him, is just sitting in his chair holding her tiny body.
Melonie S SheltonPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesWhy Won't You Understand?
A typical week would begin with a Sunday. In many families it is normal for Sunday church service but in my home we had a Sunday routine. Once I had brushed my teeth and taken a bath, "Here is $20 for the french bread, cheese, turkey, and newspaper," said mom. I was sent to the corner Bodega also known in NYC as the corner grocery store. After returning from the store we would have a cup of coffee and eat. This was my favorate part of a Sunday. When breakfast was done we would prepare for a 8 hour service at the Pentecostal church. Typically this would be a morning bible class followed by lunch and service.
Lisette CamachoPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesA Memoir of Loss
September 26th, 2020 On the 17th I performed my Boromama’s (maternal uncle) first death anniversary ritual. Seeing his photo and performing his death anniversary ritual felt odd. I sat in the same place where he used to when he would perform the monthly rituals after my maternal grandmother’s death. I used to stand beside him, watching as he performed the rituals while the priest recited the mantras. Not once during those times did I think that I would have to sit in the same place and perform the rituals for him someday. It never occurred to me. I never imagined his death. Then again, I did not imagine my grandmother’s death either.
Gourav BhattacharyaPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesDaddy's Little Girl
Sitting here, feeling as if my wings have been clipped, I wonder what is going on. It has been almost four months and it still feels as if it was just yesterday. This is something I never thought I would have to go through, and even though I thought I was prepared, turns out I could never be ready for the flood of emotion that comes with this. Every single day I have to do it without you, my heart breaks just that much more. I never saw myself doing this, and let alone with a half-hearted smile on my face. But here I am.
Britney MariePublished 4 years ago in FamiliesFour-leaf Clover
I'm not religious, but I found myself praying anyway. I was praying for a miracle, praying to survive, begging to make it out of this situation.
S. G. MarinPublished 4 years ago in FamiliesThe World Is Yours
"The World Is Yours" I have never shied away from hard work. I came from a working-class blue collar family and my mother and father instilled a great work ethic for us, as we saw our parents work hard to raise their children - sometimes holding down more than one job at a time.
Thomas G RobinsonPublished 4 years ago in Families