Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Unanswerable questions

*Note: This post is about suicide. I've been thinking about writing about this for a while because it's a very real part of my grief. If you can't handle me talking about it, or if you're going to freak out on me,  please stop reading now. 

Since he died I think about suicide a lot. There are weeks when not a day goes by that I don't imagine myself leaving this horrible world and never coming back. In the early weeks/months, I actually had times when I would have a knife in my hand to cut vegetables or something and I'd think, "one firm shove into my heart and this will all be done". Or I'd sit in the car and imagine closing the garage door and just drifting away. It comes to my mind quite often. But I can never bring myself to do it. The main reason is Bryan. I could never (and will never) do that to him. How could I possibly leave him here all alone? I can't. The other reason is that I'm too scared. I don't really know what lies beyond. I'd like to think it's beautiful and I'd get to instantly be with Samuel, but who really knows? (Plus, knowing my luck, I'd be the person who tries to kill herself only to mess it up and end up a vegetable for the rest of my miserable life). So I stay around.

Reading that, you might have a few reactions: 1. If you've lost you own baby/child, you might say "oh, I've been there..." 2. If you haven't, you might say, "oh my gosh! We need to get her help right this minute!" or,  3. You might say "What a terrible person to even think about that!" I'm not, I'm just endlessly sad.

If you've never been through this, you can't possibly understand how hard it is. My life, the world, my faith, everything I've ever believed in, is irreparably distorted and damaged. I look around and all I see is people living these blissfully ignorant lives...so happy...so full of faith, talking about how much God has blessed them. (If God has blessed you, then what does that mean for me??) So many happy moms with happy little babies. I hear people talking about "miracle this and prayer that" and it rips at my soul. 

I try to go out in the world and all I see is mamas with babies. E V E R Y W H E R E. Young moms, old moms, moms who seem to hate their children, moms who are cooing to their babies... it all rips my heart out. It all makes me think about death. How will I ever be ok again?

People say "I'm praying for you". I think, "That's nice that you care, but don't waste your time". Prayer, God, Faith, Healing, Miracle....these are all words that bring bile to my throat. Once you've put your faith to the test and it fails, where can you go from there? How can I ever pray again when I've seen what "prayer can do" (blah!)?

I'm just lost in this world that no longer makes sense. How can so many, many, many undeserving people have perfectly healthy babies and our baby is sick for absolutely no reason? How can anyone believe in a loving and powerful God when He just sat back and watched while our baby died? (Not to mention all the horrific things like rape and war and murder and such that happen every single day!) Why is everyone I know either pregnant or cuddling with their precious new baby?

While we're on this subject: Why do people keep telling me about their pregnancies and babies? I honestly can not think of one reason why on earth I need to know. I've tried to say it nicely but here is the truth: When you tell me your pregnant, I lose my mind. I usually end of crying for days and screaming and making plans to run away for ever  (and it's poor Bryan who has to try to console me while simultaneously feeling just as bad himself). The wound in my soul rips back open and I want to die. When I see you with your baby, I imagine how I should be with my baby and my heart breaks. I question why you and not me and there is no answer. So I want to die. (You may think I'm mean and rude for saying that, but I think you're mean and rude for telling me, so I guess we're even.)

It's really hard to be a part of this world anymore. I love my family and friends, but your happiness just reminds me of what I should have. My joy was stolen away and I'm left with tons of unanswerable questions, a deep hurt and nothing but endless days of misery. 

Everyday I'm plagued by these questions: why us, why him, why didn't God save him, why didn't I get to hold him, why did I ever buy into the nonsense of "miracle healing", why don't people understand how painful this is for me, why isn't he here, why is this my life?

Endless and unanswerable questions. This is my life. I honestly don't know what to do anymore.

I'll just keep on going until one day I don't have to anymore. 

I miss him.

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