Brick Wall

I am addicted to optimism. Just being real here. It’s my coping mechanism. Of course there are a lot worse ways to cope, but I think it keeps me from feeling the full extent of my experience so I can heal.

When people see me joyful I know it makes them happy, so I try to keep that face for them. I also have a really hard time crying in front of others.

A dear friend reminded me that it’s bullshit. This is devastating and it’s ok to show up in life without a smile on my face. Everyone knows I’m a positive person, I don’t have anything to prove except being my authentic self, and sometimes I feel like shit.

I hit a brick wall this week. Of course I did, at 7 months after loss I’ve been doing this on my own, without professional help. I’ve had health situations before that I researched my way through, changing diet, reducing stress. I literally thought I could research my way out of grief.

Grieving alone is hard, grieving with two other people—one being a child—is the hardest thing I’ve had to do. {Please send any books on sibling loss because I’m working on a list—there are so few.}

Brick walls redirect our course. We now have a counselor that we trust lined up next week. (I went to one early on, but she didn’t really click for me.) Plus, I’m going to attend my first baby loss support group tomorrow night.

I put it off because I was overwhelmed with a full schedule, and could not handle one more thing. I did think a good mindset would get me far. It does to some extent, but this is all new, and we need a professional to help walk us through.

Grief is real, it’s not our fault, it can strike at anytime, and that’s OK. Reach for help when you need it. We must keep the discussion on grief in our society open and flowing. I’m going to start by calling sick days “grief days” instead. I’m completely broken after losing the child I dreamed of for four years, daddy’s girl, my son’s sibling. And with help I know we’ll be okay.