Fifteen months have passed since my son died. I get out of bed more often. I am responsible for housework again. I don’t cry as much. But I am definitely dealing with long-term side-effects of grief that I didn’t expect.
I am sad and tired. Psalm 119:28
I am tired. I start the day tired. I end the day tired. I wear out easily. Some days I just live for the moment when I know I can get back in my bed.
You would not let me sleep. I tried to pray, but I was too upset.
I kept thinking about the past, about things that happened long ago. Psalm 77:4-5
I am sleepless. Once I do get back to my bed, I lay awake. My mind races. I toss and turn. My thoughts aren’t always about Azaiah. But there’s a lot of thoughts shooting through my head. I don’t sleep.
I am weary from distress. Psalm 57:6
I am distress. Noise. Clutter. Chaos. My skin crawls. My fuse is short. And sometimes I just want it to all go away.
4. Lack of Focus
My vision is blurred by grief. Psalm 6:7
I am blurred. The calendar overwhelms me. Sometimes when people talk I can hear the words but I don’t understand what they are saying. Sometimes the everyday activities of life spin around me and I don’t absorb any of it.
5. Memory Loss
Why must I wander around in grief? Psalm 42:9
I wander. I lose chunks of time in my memory. From my kids activities to the grocery list, memories disappear.
6. Shell Shock
My enemies taunt me day after day. They mock and curse me. Psalm 102:8
I am taunted. Gunfire. Bombs. I flinch. I duck and cover… in my kitchen. The little hands of my children induce panic. Comforting touches make me jump.
I have good moments but Death continues to sting. Death keeps injecting its poison into my veins.
Here’s what I have to accept- I am changed. I am not the same woman I was before January 4, 2013. I have limitations that I didn’t bargain for. And that’s OK.
Laughter can conceal a heavy heart, but when the laughter ends, the grief remains. Prov. 14:13