Ronni
Well-known Member
- Location
- Nashville TN
There’s the one where it’s a couple of months after Devin’s death, and I’m returning to a degree of normalcy. I’m going to work, going out with my husband, meal planning, grocery shopping, walking the dogs, cleaning the house, doing the laundry….all of the normal daily or weekly tasks that went out the window for a while because I was non-functional, but now I’m back to doing again.
I’m still having trouble being social. I understand at some point I’ll be able to, but not yet, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to tolerate it.
But then there’s the other life. The one where I’m constantly on the verge of tears. Where I want to scream every minute of every day that my son is dead and why is the world still turning? Where there is constant emotional pain that feels like my heart is literally breaking. A dread that hums in the background of everything I do, a foreboding of a future that will never cease to be painful.
I don’t have the words to articulate what that feels like, that dichotomy of two separate lives running concurrently, the one normal, the other that is so incredibly, wretchedly painful, and will never be normal again. The disconnect. The surreality. The space I inhabit that is divided into two very distinct parts, and I’m existing in both at the same time, but surviving in neither.
The best I can do is to figure out how to manage this new impossible reality, this duality of lives, this cognitive dissonance.
It’s so hard.
I’m still having trouble being social. I understand at some point I’ll be able to, but not yet, and I don’t know when I’ll be able to tolerate it.
But then there’s the other life. The one where I’m constantly on the verge of tears. Where I want to scream every minute of every day that my son is dead and why is the world still turning? Where there is constant emotional pain that feels like my heart is literally breaking. A dread that hums in the background of everything I do, a foreboding of a future that will never cease to be painful.
I don’t have the words to articulate what that feels like, that dichotomy of two separate lives running concurrently, the one normal, the other that is so incredibly, wretchedly painful, and will never be normal again. The disconnect. The surreality. The space I inhabit that is divided into two very distinct parts, and I’m existing in both at the same time, but surviving in neither.
The best I can do is to figure out how to manage this new impossible reality, this duality of lives, this cognitive dissonance.
It’s so hard.
