I'm having a hard time caring, or wanting to eat, or dealing with all of the stupid have-to's of life. I don't want to get out of bed. I don't care if I shower or go to work. My patience is nil. My stepmom is driving me absolutely crazy and I know she can't help it. She complains about everything, thinks everything needs to be like Burger King so she can have it her way, is constantly freezing while the rest of us are sweating and is forever wanting the furnace "bumped up a notch." Tim and I had to sleep with the window open last night and our door closed because it's so hot it's hard to sleep. I know I'm picking at things that I can because I can't control the one thing I want to, the hurt I feel with Amanda being gone. I don't want to be here stuck in this little dinky house listening to my parents bicker and cramped up in a 10 x 10 bedroom. But I don't want to waste the gas to drive to "town," either. I'm angry and restless and I want answers. I want the detective to at least email me or call me even if it's to say he has no new information for me.
Why did you go over there, Amanda?? Why didn't you just listen to my heart when I asked you to please not go? We always wanted what was best for you and knew that a lot of times you were your own worst enemy. I'm overwhelmed with grief. I feel so small and void. I know someday I will be able to focus on her life more than her death, but that day is not today. Today has been a down day. Yesterday at work was a little better. I think I'm fighting off getting sick, too, and I'm sure it's due to the stress, grief, and fatigue. I was supposed to go get my hair done today but it's just another one of those things that I just don't care enough to do it. I think I want to want to more than I actually want to. I know people are probably like, "God, she's so depressed all the time now." and who wants to talk to someone like me? There's enough crap in the world, in life, so why add to it by listening to me? I don't even really want to talk to anyone. No one but someone who has experienced it really would understand anyway. I know their intentions are good. I know they care, and that's enough, but I can't really let people in to see my heart or I will crumble. I think that's why people assume I'm being so "strong," is I just can't let people see my real hurt, it's too overwhelming. And so I write this stupid blog to attempt to express the depth of my pain, but really there are no words adequate. My baby is gone. My present and future plans with her are gone and I have to wait til Jesus calls me home to see her again and how I wish I didn't have to wait, yet I wouldn't want to leave Tim or Michael behind, either, so I attempt to take another step in the dark, walking in faith that God IS beside me holding my hand, asking me to trust him in the void. I do trust you, Lord. It's all I have.
My roller coaster experience of losing our 19-year-old daughter and walking through all that entails.
(((Shelly)))
ReplyDeleteShelly, here I am again just to say that I can totally relate to what you are saying here. I feel much the same way. You are saying things that I have felt and thought. I felt like the world came to a screeching halt and no one seemed to care. And there was no safe place...how could I unload? People would just think, "Enough already!". The grief and the despair, the wailing and the gut wrenching whirlwind of emotions. I am so sorry you are going through this deep valley. For me it's been about 20 months and I still have not really written about it. My story is different, and sensitive in that organized crime was involved so I do not feel the freedom to give all the details, but perhaps one day I will, even if it helps one person...me. I have not been able to write about it. But I did start a blog recently. I may or may not do it there. I am so sorry you are going through this! Thank you for sharing. It is helping me get in touch with some of the things that I couldn't because of the situation and circumstances I was in. I pray the Lord will help you through this valley.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much. I never knew others actually read what I wrote. It's hard to even imagine being 20 months out when it's hard still to even get through the day. 20 months of days...It makes me shudder. God bless you. You should do a blog about it, keeping it private so only you can read it due to the sensitive nature, but that's what this one is for, to help me. It just helps me process and give voice to the craziness that is going on in my heart and mind. I still wrestle with God over this, but I know she is with him now, and that in his time, my husband and I will be, too. It's just hard in the "now." You should try finding the book, Choosing to SEE" by Mary Beth Chapman if you haven't read it yet. I have prayed for you and know God will walk with us both through our separate valleys and that he will make beauty from ashes.
DeleteShelly, thank you so much for taking the time to respond. Even though I am so blessed and honored that you would do that, I do not put an expectation on you. It's hard not to isolate when you feel like people cannot handle what you are going through. It's hard not to be angry or irritable or feel like you have nothing to give. Let me just say that reading your heart felt cries is helping me too. I wish we hadn't met under these circumstances, but if nothing else, may the Lord somehow bring beauty from these horribly gut wrenching ashes, yes. Your situation is different in that this was your daughter. My mum can attest that what you are going through is absolutely horrific. My baby brother was brutally and violently tortured and murdered. It's hard to even say those words. The details of our story is so gruesome and shocking. It's hard not to feel like a leper of sorts. Like, "How on earth did this happen? Why us?" It's worse than a Hollywood movie and no one ever believes something like this could ever happen to them. You never know what the person standing in front of you has gone through. You just never know. Thank you for sharing. I know this is so hard. I just want to say THANK YOU.
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