Thursday, February 18, 2010

it's getting worse...

I've often heard the phrase "hitting bottom" in reference to people dealing with addiction or destructive lifestyles or even depression. I would imagine that grief must have a low-point as well, though I have to admit that I'm not up on my reading about this subject. Frankly, as I told someone recently, I would like to take all of the books about the stages of grief and what I should be feeling and set them on fire. But that's another post.

I keep thinking to myself, "this is pretty bad...I can't imagine it's gonna get worse". Then it does.

Here's something new: I find myself laying in bed at night reliving the night of the accident and throwing myself into panic attacks. It's like my mind is still trying to grasp what has happened and won't give up until it has reviewed every moment of that day and explored all other possibilities for why it hasn't seen Kate or Peter in almost a year. And when it comes to the conclusion that they're dead, it panics. (it's a little weird how I sometimes describe my mind as a separate entity - don't worry I don't think I've developed multiple personalities)

I don't know if I would feel better if someone else was around - I certainly have spent a lot more time alone lately, thanks to our 482 feet of snow - or if I would just feel awkward.

So now I have a hard time falling asleep at night (though thankfully, once I fall asleep I sleep pretty well) and I wake up every morning and say to myself, "I just can't do this anymore. I'm done." But no matter how adamantly I say it or how serious I am, I can't be done. I have no choice. I have to keep going.

I think the approaching anniversary is part of the reason I'm having such a hard time, but who knows? I could make up reasons forever - I just want to know when it's gonna stop getting worse and get better, if ever. Maybe? Please?!

Because I have to give myself a little something to hold onto, here are a couple of good things:

1. The other night while I was trying to go to sleep and unbearably missing my kids, I pleaded with them to visit me in my dreams. I did, in fact, dream about them that night. It was a strange dream, but I woke up feeling like I got to spend some time with them which is priceless.

2. Tomorrow I have a meeting regarding the playground I'm trying to build in their memory. Hopefully I will have more information to share with you soon. This is a good thing, and a reason to get out of bed tomorrow.

If you don't hear much from me in the upcoming days it's because I'm literally putting all the energy I have into getting out of bed, taking an occasional shower and getting dressed. Oh, and shoveling snow.

It has to get better eventually.

37 comments:

  1. I think that grief doesn't necessarily have a lowest point, it just simply levels off for a while, then slowly but surely begins the uphill climb towards normalcy. It doesn't ever approach the former normal, but creates a new normal. The good news here is that there's something to look forward to. Eventually the day WILL come when it won't hurt to breathe, sleep will come easily and food will taste again. I think the playground will be a vital ingredient in the healing process. Sending you good thoughts. Kate

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  2. I agree with Kate -the love that you are going to pour into the creation of that playground will help you heal.

    Saying a prayer for you - you're stronger than you know.

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  3. I have no brilliant advice for you other than when you think you can't go on, keep trying. I don't know you, but you are clearly a strong woman. And the playground will be wonderful.

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  4. Hang in there and prayers to you and your children.

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  5. Think of the good memories, smile, and channel them into making that the best damn playground ever.

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  6. Keeping you in my prayers and thoughts. I can't imagine your pain but I have faith that your strength will come on slowly and steadily. God bless.

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  7. Saying a prayer for you as well. I don't know if this helps or makes it worse, but it hasn't been that long. I know it feels like an eternity, but this will undoubtedly be the unbearably longest stretch of your life. The silver lining in that is its imaginable that you are just hitting the low point, or that the lowest of lows would stretch this long and beyond, but everday then takes you closer to the less bad. I know words are powerless, but I'm holding you in my thoughts and prayers every day.

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  8. I have not gone down the road you are travelling so I cannot tell you when or if it gets better. I can only offer support and prayers. I do pray for you, Amy, that you'll find peace, that you'll be happy again one day, that one day you'll be able to breathe again without feeling like grief is crushing you.

    My prayers continue. Keep trying. We're all pulling for you.

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  9. Amy,
    It sucks, the whole losing such a huge part of your life sucks. There aren't concrete stages of grieving, the whole thing is more of a pinball game. You're sad, you're mad, you're happy, you're angry, you're bouncing all around and have no idea which way is up. The fact that you're taking this tragedy and turning it into something that will bring joy to so many other children, is courageous. Sending you a big hug!

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  10. I'm looking forward to news on the playground. I think it's a fantastic tribute to Kate and Peter. To pull apart a quote from a song, "There's a little bit of something me in everything in you." There's a little bit of your kids in every child that will play there.

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  11. Thinking of you and saying a prayer tonight....

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  12. Hang in, there, girl, lots of people are praying for you, and you will be alright...eventually!

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  13. Sending you hugs and prayers. I look forward to hearing about the playground. I do agree with Kate and think the playground will be helpful in the healing process. You are a strong woman. Sending positive thoughts.

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  14. Sending prayers and hugs your way.

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  15. The playground is going to be amazing! You are a strong, amazing person. I cannot imagine what you are going through, but know that you are in my thoughts and prayers daily. I think of the movie Finding Nemo and the quote, "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming..." Even if you just feel like floating for awhile that is okay, too. :) Take care

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  16. Sending you hugs and hoping things will get better soon.

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  17. Would love to hear an update on the playground - good luck with your meeting. I think the entire first year after losing someone is extremely difficult - a year of painful "firsts". After that, the milestones, "marking" or measuring the fact that you are not spending time with them in body (though, in spirit - we know that's a different story :-), are gone; what's left then is different... the new life begins. You are such a good mother; I can't imagine the hole you are experiencing right now -the grief. Sending you strength for another day, week, month..... This pain will never entirely go away but it will get better.

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  18. Thinking of you. The playground is going to be incredible, Amy. I know it.

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  19. I was linked to your blog through a comment on another blog, snickollet.blogspot.com. I have been reading your story and I am absolutely amazed at your strength. Thank you for writing...you've undoubtedly touched many lives. Sending positive vibes your way!

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  20. Always thinking of you. Please let us know what we can do to help with the playground. I'm sure I'm not alone in saying that we will do whatever we can to help. Something good needs to come out of all of this, and maybe that playground is it.

    Love and virtual hugs to you.
    -Ashley

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  21. Thinking of you and finding inspiration in your strength.

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  22. Oh Amy. It breaks my heart to read about your struggles. My mother used to always remind me, "the darkest hour is before the dawn." So, hang in there and keep putting one foot in front of the other. The playground will be such a wonderful tribute to your precious little angels. Focus on that...on breathing...on remembering that many, many people who you know and don't know care tremendously. Keep "talking" to us. We'll sit here and listen all day long.

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  23. Im still reading, at times I dont know what to say just want you to know Im always thinking of you and Kate and Peter.

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  24. There is no bottom with grief - for me there's waves. I just stand tall and try to ride the wave up and down - bending my knees, remembering to breathe. Grief is also sneaky. It will come back as depression, rage, questioning and oh so inconveniently not in order when your life wants it to.

    Can't recall how I found your blog but I'm sure glad I did. Thanks for writing.

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  25. Orange Callapittar

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  26. Amy, I agree that the anniversary is probably bringing all of this on and what Sherri said about "firsts" is correct. You are one strong woman, but if you need to; reach out to get any sort of help you may need. You are an inspiration and I think about you and the children often. Hugs and prayers to you.............Just Float...........

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  27. Just wanted to let you know I'm reading and thinking of you as you go through this journey. I love that your kids visit you in your dreams and I think the playground is going to be great!

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  28. Hi Amy,
    I was so happy to hear about your good things. You are a wonderful person!
    Take care. You continue to be in my thoughts and prayers.

    Dawn

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  29. The darkest hour is just before dawn. The hole that grief has carved in your heart will be filled up by Love. It is hard to look at the naked trees in Winter and imagine their appearance in Spring, but Spring will come. Take it from someone who's been where you are, and who loves you very much.

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  30. I am saying a prayer for you, Amy. You are the strongest woman I know - well, sure, I don't KNOW you in person, but you know what I mean. Seriously, I have been through some tough times, but NOTHING that could compare what you went through - and you exhibit the most grace, strength and composure of anyone I can think of. I just know that your two angels are so proud of you. And we are all proud of you, too. Not that that makes you feel better, necessarily, but just know that you make SO many of us proud.

    Thanks for sharing your life with us, Amy... Praying for you!

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  31. Just one thought, Amy. You said the playground is a good thing and a reason to get out of bed tomorrow morning. Can you try to find one thing that is a good reason to get out of bed every day.... even if it's small? (lunch with a friend, cooking class since you love to cook, volunteering to help someone else that doesn't take away the time you need to help yourself)? I love your posts. I draw strength from you because you are a strong woman (that's obvious to me and many others), I enjoy hearing about your children, and I close my computer and feel as if my priorities have been suddenly put in the right order. Peace and hugs to you. I look forward to hearing more about Peter and Kate's playground!

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  32. You know we're all here to help you with that there playground. ;)

    Praying for your peace.

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  33. Ah,..... geeze....
    I'm speechless........
    Love and Prayers....
    Chin up..... look 'em all in the eyes

    Even if the tears and pain are still there....
    Hang in there..... The kids want you strong...
    They really do

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  34. Amy,Iknow everyone is writing in to hang in there it will get easier bla bla bla but the truth is it may not.I don't want to depress you when this site helps keep you going, but everyone writes in saying in time it will get better. No one really knows that. And to have a loss as big as you did seems impossible that it will ever get better. They were your children, the loves of you life and even though it may never get easier I just had to tell you that I think your absolutely amazing for going on at all.I can not imagine what it would be like but I do know I could never be as strong as you. You amaze me and I do not even know you. I am addicted to reading how you are and you and your children are on my mind constantly. I pray for you and pray that I never have to face what you are. It is so inspiring that you are building a playground in their memory. I cannot wait to see it.I do think it would be best if you were not alone. After reading all the posts you had to be a wonderful mother and you deserve to be again. Another child could never replace your children but you were meant to be a mom and deserve to be again. Any child would be lucky to have a mother like you and I just hope and pray your able to get there again someday. You deserve all the best and just do not rule out being a wife or amazing mother again someday. You deserve it all and I pray someday you will find peace and a reason to go on. Being alone will only make things worse. You need and deserve someone to share your lift with. I am not going to say it will get easier or better because no one can know that will happen. You will be the only one to say if it gets better or easier. I along with many others will pray that it does.

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  35. Amy, I've been reading your blog for a long time now...and everytime I've tried to post-it's kicked me out for some reason! So, this is the first time I'm getting to say this, but I've wanted to post this after every entry!...your strength just amazes and inspires me. I get so much out of your blog, and it's entries like this, that I wish I had something to offer to you...some piece of inspiration or advice. So, instead, I'll continue to keep you, Kate, and Pater in my thoughts. I really hope you have some peace come to you sometime very soon-you so richly deserve it.
    I'm sure the playground is going to be amazing. Kate and Peter are so blessed to have you as their Mommy.

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  36. For me, the anticipation of holidays and anniversaries were far worse than the actual days themselves.
    But it's different for everyone.
    I'll be thinking of you and praying.

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